Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of “All that Glitters is Not Gold” (without using the actual phrase or literal example). (01/24/08)
TITLE: Wandering Soul
By Linda Watson Owen
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contented with quaint loves and likes without ambitious, soaring quests.
Each day was like the day before. Soul walked along familiar ways
and smiled at sunshine with a song and met the rain with child-like praise.
Soul’s little world held naught to fear. It seemed quite cozy by the fire
with little more than food and friends, he had all that his heart desired.
Until one day upon his path, Soul saw a stranger with a prize
that sparkled in the sunshine’s gleam and glistened bright before his eyes.
Soul looked upon the stranger’s gem, and stood there captured by the glow.
Quite suddenly the path grew dim as chilly rain fell on sad Soul.
“I want that gem,” Soul spoke aloud. “I want that prize that glimmers there.
I want that treasure to be mine.” Soul said the words as if to swear.
Soul barely recognized his voice. He’d never spoke such words before,
but something stirred deep in his heart. He thought it was the prize, no more.
Soul followed close behind the one who had the thing that lured poor Soul.
He left familiar paths behind and strayed far from his humble home.
Then Soul soon saw an Eden fair, a garden tended by the best.
Soul saw the stranger turn in there. Soul thought it might be for a rest.
So in Soul went and found the path was hedged in by tall brushy trees.
He looked but saw no hint of him who had the prize that Soul would seize.
This path meandered here and there. Turn upon new turns it took,
As Soul went farther in and found more lost was he at every nook.
The maze surrounded Soul in spite of any way he turned or fled.
The prize he wanted so to steal had vanished in the twisting hedge.
A labyrinth of want gone wrong had captured Soul within its maze,
as Soul now crawled and called forlorn lost in the brambles of his ways.
He thought he’d caught a glimpse, but then the object of his want was gone.
He stumbled, bumbled in the hedge of wanting what was surely wrong.
Poor Soul, in fear, lost and alone, yearned now for his quaint humble hearth,
where once before he knew the joys of just enough to cheer his heart.
“How foolish I have been!’ he said, as tear drops fell from his gray sky.
“Oh, how I wish I could go back and warm myself by friends and fire.”
Then from someplace Soul could not see, a gentle hand took his and said,
“Come follow me, and you will find the path that leads you home again.”
The gentle man then led Soul out and right back to his little home,
as Soul vowed never to depart nor from his special place to roam.
“But Sir,” Soul said, “could you just tell me what the stranger carried there?”
“Some things are not for you to know, but this one I’ll reveal,” he shared.
“You strayed from all the good you knew. You risked your life, your very breath.
Though to your eyes the thing seemed fair, encased within was naught but Death.”
Soul hung his head and burned with shame. He’d thought himself quite smart before.
Then with the comfort of a smile, his new Friend said, “Wander no more.”
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