Murakumo

murakumo - 叢雲 - for all the humble beauties of this world

They were born under a sea of stars, sheltered from the eyes above by palm fronds and rolling storm clouds. A god, with fire in their eyes to match the morning sun that broke through the darkness as they uttered their first cry.

Their first gift to this world was a sunrise, slightly more colorful than the one that came the day before.

Small in body and yet too large for this world, they grew up toddling about with no particular goal. Nothing spectacular, especially for a god whose birth had shown so much promise. Instead, they spent their days molding flowers out of sand and yearning for the ocean, standing in the water and willing themselves to become one with the sea.

And like this, they escaped the notice of the eyes above, wandering the world protected by their ordinariness. No miracles, only sand flowers and waves that lingered just a little too long at their feet.

Their second gift to this world was seafoam, white trails to mirror sea and sky.

In time they moved away from the water, shaping clouds with autumn breezes and winter winds for the blooms of spring and fruits of summer. Wherever they passed through, the leaves would be slightly crisper, the snow slightly whiter, the flowers slightly sweeter.

Come summer, they parted the storm clouds to let in a ray of sunlight, allowing colored light to dance on their palms and soul as they unknowingly came under the gaze of the eyes above.

Their third gift to this world was sunshowers, healing light mixed with healing rains to create all the colors of the rainbow.

The night sky found them where they began their journey, under the palm fronds listening to the rise and fall of the ocean's breath. The eyes above are displeased, for you wasted the gifts the universe gave you.

They simply closed their eyes as the sand around them shifted into the pattern of windswept dunes and the night sky descended over them, draining them out onto the beach and dragging them down into the great, leviathan deeps of the sea they had yearned for in their youth.

They smiled, turning the sea slightly bluer, the day slightly brighter, and filling the night sky with one more star than before -- a spirit's mark left in this realm without a mortal vessel to carry it.

Is godhood meant to be grandiose?

Their fourth gift to this life was paid in blood, leaving behind all the humble beauties of this world.

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by Psi and brightmyth