I wake up with the sun, the grass and leaves wet with dew, the soft splash of the water upon the shore. Hugging the mountains is the mist protecting them from the eyes of us humans. My back aches as I get out of bed, but prayer comes first and I push myself to get up. Throwing my habit over my head I begin my day. The grotto is silent, the flowers sway, I pray to the Lord and ask for forgiveness, my sins too much to bear. I pray with all my heart and soul and let God know he is thanked. I pray for my fellow monks as an orange hue takes over the sky. My beloved country is now the focus of my prayers, I pray for good weather, and health for the people, and for God’s blessings on Ireland. The faint song of a bird brings me back to life, I get to my feet and follow the music, for it is magic
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“Old man I do not know you or why you dress like that, but I hope you do not get into trouble.” As he says this I think to myself “old man” I am not that old. Suddenly I become aware of my appearance. My hair is white, thin, and flowing past my torso, my robes are covered in dust and holes. I look down and wonder how the wrinkly, weak hands I was looking at had ever gotten anything done. I catch a glance at myself in a puddle, my face distorted and my skin sagging, my teeth are chipped, loose, and yellowing. The only things that look the same are my eyes, still blue like the sky with a hint of gray storm clouds moving in.
“My friend,” I say in a haze, “What has happened to me, I was gone only since the morning, why do I look so aged?” My head is spinning, and my body is aching, I await an answer.
“You could not have been here this morning sir, for I do not recognize you. These savage beasts have roamed our land for 200 years or more, they eat our food, sleep in our beds, and treat us like slaves. Have you not seen the horribleness good
“Old man I do not know you or why you dress like that, but I hope you do not get into trouble.” As he says this I think to myself “old man” I am not that old. Suddenly I become aware of my appearance. My hair is white, thin, and flowing past my torso, my robes are covered in dust and holes. I look down and wonder how the wrinkly, weak hands I was looking at had ever gotten anything done. I catch a glance at myself in a puddle, my face distorted and my skin sagging, my teeth are chipped, loose, and yellowing. The only things that look the same are my eyes, still blue like the sky with a hint of gray storm clouds moving in.
“My friend,” I say in a haze, “What has happened to me, I was gone only since the morning, why do I look so aged?” My head is spinning, and my body is aching, I await an answer.
“You could not have been here this morning sir, for I do not recognize you. These savage beasts have roamed our land for 200 years or more, they eat our food, sleep in our beds, and treat us like slaves. Have you not seen the horribleness good