Journey's End - A Fable

The road was difficult and my destination far distant.

“What a beautiful meadow,” my soul said as we traveled. “See, there, where the stream cascades over the rocks, how the sunlight glistens on the water, and a bird is singing in that tree. Surely God is an artist. Let us rest here to savor the goodness of his nature.”

“We haven’t the time to waste,” I answered, and trudged valiantly onward.

When we had journeyed for some while, we came through a village. A small child sat upon a doorstep, sobbing. My soul cried, “But, wait, let us stop to comfort this little one.”

“We have far to go still,” I answered. “We haven’t time to stop.”

The road flowed behind us, and behind us, and still behind. The shadows lengthened and the air chilled. “Oh, let us squander just a moment in the shelter of that wall,” my weary soul said. “I am sad and need respite. Can you spare nothing for my sake, at least?”

“Can’t you see, the day is growing short,” I said, impatient. “And if we do not persevere, night will be upon us before we reach our goal. We haven’t the time to spare.”

Then I saw death, in robes of black satin and with silver snakes twining in his hair. He came down the road toward us and, as he grew near, he looked directly at me and smiled in greeting.

“We must pray,” I said, frightened.

“You haven’t the time,” my soul said.