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A Fountain of Diamonds
by Karen Persson
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A Fountain of Diamonds

Long before this age we know, there was a land of unsurpassed beauty. It far exceeded the imagination. The sky was of crystal cobalt by night, and by day it shone with the essence of the finest pearl. In the air hung a fragrance, one of the purest and noblest quality. All the land was warm and kind. It stretched beyond the gaze to boundaries unknown. The colors were vivid and true, the blending of them subtle as in a pool of water. They seemed to posses a life of their own, pulsing in perfect harmony with the land of which they colored. The flora was plentiful. It lavished the land with a blanket of leaves, large and small, of different shapes and textures, which produced flowers of exquisite hues that flourished in this land of flawlessness.
The people of this land were content, the beauty went unawed, they knew of nothing else, to them it was ordinary. They were simple and quaint in their ways, living peaceably with one another. They did not hoard what they had. They shared with one another. None were of want.
In this land there stood a marvelous granite fountain of three tiers, which rained down diamonds. To behold this fountain was an awesome sight. The foundation was well-rounded, not very broad, but strong, to accommodate the middle tier which was elevated to the height of the canopy created by the trees that surrounded it. An equal distance from the middle, was the crown where the purest of water came forth. When it slipped as droplets, over the rim of this spectacular fountain, a diamond was borne. The brilliance sparkled forth from facets uncut by human hands, so bright the gleam, one could not see the diamond for it. But it was there, reflecting the light which gave it life. Its journey was ever so brief, plunging under the surface below, it would disappear and await its turn once again. Never did the water stray from this fountain, never did a diamond fall to the ground; the gentle breeze was kept at bay by the trees standing guard to protect this treasure. The day shone brightly upon this fountain and bathed it in the finest light.
It was said, that if one could reach in and snatch just a single diamond from its journey without touching another, then a diamond they would hold and keep forever.
The people of this land knew not greed, until one day, they discovered the fountain. The keeper of the fountain was ancient of age. His beard was as white as the light of the day. His stature was larger than the other people of the land; he stood unbent from his years, clothed in velvet robes which bespoke his line. His voice was as gentle and smooth as the breeze which moved unseen, not abrupt in its beginning nor was it short in its ceasing. He was kind and generous to share the beauty of this wonder with the people who would come to see his fountain of diamonds. However, before long, he was sorry he had done so.
The people became curious to know what it would be like to have a diamond; one of their very own. For surely, not all would be able to snatch one, and those who could, would have something that not all others possessed.
The striving began. Many tried and failed, over and over, to obtain a single diamond. They became discontented with all that they had and shared. Nothing mattered much to them anymore, except obtaining that which they could not get hold of.
At last, one day, someone quickly grasped a beautiful diamond from the fountain. Oh, it was extraordinary. All who saw it were envious. They strove harder for one of their own. The one who possessed the diamond became arrogant. To have obtained such a possession beyond the others, surely showed a mark of being exceptional.
As time went on, the discontentment of the people grew. The content life they once knew to be enjoyable became mundane. They were not satisfied. They desired that which they did not have. The one with the diamond became lonely and looked upon the diamond as a burden of tremendous weight.
Returning to the fountain one day, the one with the diamond no longer wished to possess it. It had lost all its brilliance. It was no longer a treasure. It had become strife and greed, and even pride. It brought discontentment and loneliness. As quickly as it had been snatched, it was let fall back whence it came.

To hold the beauty of the journey in one’s memory
Is better than to hold a diamond in one’s hand
To see It take Its journey a thousand times
Is more treasure than a thousand steps with a diamond
For truly, It comes with a great price

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Member Comments
Member Date
B Brenton 04 Nov 2005
This is really awesome, and you have a great gift. Just read other stories and get used to the spacing, then you can make it more readable. I've been trying to PM you but it doesn't look like you are a 500 member (nor am I) but you can look me up under the same name on the message boards. Wanted to say, be encouraged. I've just started here and I feel my writing has improved tenfold. It will happen to you too and you have a great voice and solid foundation with your writing. There's nothing wrong with being with us hacks in beginners. :D
Amy Michelle Wiley  28 Oct 2005
Wow, this is an awesome story! The words flow so beautifully, especially in the first paragraph. This would make a beautiful book illustrated with oil or pastel. When I was young I used to throw water droplets in the air just to watch them sparkle like diamonds. :-)
Honey Stone 10 Oct 2005
Held my attention the whole time.


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