A Flux of White Veil

Sudden cloud of rain overshadowing the sky
In a flux of white veil shrouded in fogs and dews
Far from a no-man's isle an old man appears
He has traveled with his only walking stick
No one to give him a shelter or food for a day.

He went to a forest hermitage
The hermit did not oblige him.
He was left aside the forest
He was all by himself deserted.

Suddenly a prophet came in his dream
He did not preach a sermon, he just covered him with dry leaves
And left a jug of water for him
After brushing aside a pack of wolves
The wolves dared not to touch his hapless body
They only smelt him to taste his blood and flesh.

He woke up
Hunger did not impress him much
He drank the jug of water
And he saw a mist in a flux of white.

He did not remember his dream
But he heard a voice coming from the no-man's isle :
'Love thy son, my child'.