Pale Imitation

January 21, 2018
By vector-muser BRONZE, Fuzhou, Other
vector-muser BRONZE, Fuzhou, Other
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

  Once upon a time, there was a man, or a “ self-declaring” saint, who walked out of a dark cave wherein lies and folly infested. For a long time he was deeply beguiled by these lies till one day he saw a strange spot of light twinkling at the end of cave. Assailed by sudden discordance, he shuffled slowly toward that light in search for its origin. Searching , searching , and searching, as the light got stronger and clearer, the man had forgotten the way back to deep cave, and finally he managed to a small opening-there he saw a brighter newer world.
  ‘Ah, a brand new world!’, exclaimed the man. Although the unfamiliar environment overwhelmed him for a moment, he soon convinced himself that this world is a world of truth ,while everything in the cave is fake. Staring at this world with admiration and amazement while squinting at the cave, ‘Begone you evil cave, for I will not be enslaved by your lies anymore!’ thus spoke the man.
As he turned his head gently to eastward, the man saw something that he believed to be miracles-down to a yonder basin, there stood infinite great trees whose trunks were as long as mountains, canopies as wide as oceans;straight up into the clouds, golden beams were shining out of cloud-the cradle of that beam he saw in the cave- the light of heaven!
  Marveling at these miracles enchanted by enormous trees with golden radiance spread upon , the man kneed down and crossed his arms before his chest and raised his head, starting to pray 

“ I come from a cave where folly and insanity prevail.
  It is you, my gracious Lord, who save me from the jail.
  I see your long-stretching arms passing through the cloud
    On that yonder sky.
  Under which your proud children bath in your glory.
  Vigorous and august are those children in blessing.
  Ah, I sense , in the air , a floral flavor from an ancient age.
  From an undaunted soul who breaks the cage.
  Ah, mellow sunlit warming my check,
  So eagerly do I wish to see your divine palace,
  to fill my heart with holy solace, I never have before.
  So, my dear Lord, show me the vision of your reign perching      above cloud.”

  Nothing further did he pray, and nothing happened then. After a long silence the man began to doubt ‘ Didn’t Lord hear me? Or he wants me to explore his kingdom myself?’
  To find that out, the man took his own way through a steep valley. On the way he saw something miraculous: yellow smoke rising from distant sky which he deemed to be smoke resulted from volcano eruption; sometimes, he even had a feeling that something flitted over him , but when he raised head, nothing remained in the sky but a strip of fire, which he deemed to be the trail of Phoenix.
  When he managed to the bottom of that basin, his eyes were filled by the amazement of wide-spreading roots and canopies of the great trees. Silent with deity, the trees stood in an absolute up-right manner like Roman Pillar. Absorbed in such solemn atmosphere, with the indelible delight glowing on his face, the man wandered here and there , attempting to captivate as many wonders as he could , but there were too many of them.
  ‘ Oh, you sons of God! Your lofty heights grant you a chance to embrace your father. Me, too, thirst for the heaven that bents above me. Me, too, long for that fountain of delight!’ thus said the man while he fixed his eyes on that golden cloud.
  To reach his dreamland, the man attempted to climb one of the trees, yet only did he discover that the tree was branchless.
  ‘ If you don’t want to be my usher to your father’s Kingdom, then I will have to be my own one!’
  Immediately he spotted some shattered rocks at trees’ bottom. This trilled him, therefore he gathered as many stones as he could to build a climbable tower from bottom to top.
  After 60 days timeless hard work, the man had built the tower up to a height that he was able to touch the cloud. ‘ Finally! ’ exclaimed the man ‘ the time has come for me to join the glory roll of God! Let me see then, what his Kingdom is, and my soul shall be fully heated!.’ Hesitating no longer, he took a faithful leap into the cloud.
However, abruptly, he sensed extremely searing air besetting him from all directions,which nearly snuffed him. Slightly raising head, he saw intense light shouting out of sun, but it was so strong , that his eyes were scorched by the light.
How small is the virtue of man! How piteous is the hope of man! Before the almighty sun he is nothing but dust in the wind. Oh, you little pious pilgrim, though your heart is full of passions for the light of heaven, yet its entrance is, after all, too narrow for heavenly light to pass through.
  Minutes later, the man’s feet began to lean gradually backward as if they were drawn by an invisible hand. His body, half above cloud and half below it, leaned also back. Poor man! He had lost the last control of his fresh and soul, for the diabolical sunlit had taken them away to the tomb of Pale Imitator! So the delicate balance perished, and the tower became shaky from bottom to top.
  Inevitably it fell, broken at middle, like a giant whose torso was slashed into two. In that thundering rumble of collapsing, numerous scattered rocks fell like dark rain pouring from the sky, which covered the sky with a grave blanket for a short time.
  Ten seconds later, the world sunk into silence again.
  Lying on the bed of shattered rocks, with his broken limbs and organs, at the brief moment before death, the man saw many sulks and broken bones around him, bones of his predecessors. A feeling mixed by unutterable thoughts stole into his mind. He sighed at last , and died, only this and nothing more.
  We are all pale imitators who blindly chase the sun. We all deem ourselves to be sons of God, or pious pilgrims. Yet the down casting fact is that our hearts are too delicate to bear the love of God; they blow up when overloaded with light of heaven. We are all self-righteous pale imitators whose personal flaws block us from entering the reign of heaven. Though it is a remarkable feat for intrepid men to imitate God’s creations, though at the first sight a sham can perfectly blend with nature , a sham is still a sham. So those impostors we build we will doubtlessly collapse, no matter how grandiose they seem to be. We are all pale imitators. We die patch by patch on the halfway to the sun. Nobody comes back alive, the only and eternal witnesses are those lifeless rocks.


The author's comments:

  There are many men piously devoting their lives in fulfilling their dreams-many who want to do as much good to humanity as those great men(whom I call sons of God in the article)did. But because of personal flaws and limited environment, these dream-chasers often fail to reach their sun even though they work very hard toward it. In the view of God, their hard-work is nothing but pale imitation in compare with that of great man. Stories like this take place omnipresently in the world. This article is written as an elegy to both commemorate the feat and moan for fertility of those pious pilgrims dedicating in pursuing great-man spirit , whether they know or not what they do is just a pale imitation. The tone of the whole article is solemn and stirring.


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