The nameless man believed in truth. And yet he was lying. He told the one that he was trying to find a path in the dark forest of his life towards light, but in doing so he found he could not tell the one that he really sought only the very brightest light of the sun, for the one loved the dark.
For three weeks he had sought near and far for the sun. He glimpsed her for scant moments through the dark heavy boughs above, and those moments were so, so very sweet. But he knew that all he wanted was to bathe in the beauty of that glorious life-giver, with never a care that he may burn. His path crossed and crossed back over itself, making spider web patterns in the leaves of his thoughts. His motives, so clear to him sometimes, eluded him at others. The one asked and asked again what he wanted, and he could only whisper “light” for he was afraid to utter the truth.
So he continued on his quest, and the one showed him patches of moonlight, but they did not assuage his hunger for the sun. Then one day, he was telling the one of his need for any light and she was showing him moonlight again, and he could no longer hold in his real desire. He proclaimed his love for the sun, loud and clear and strong and true, and the one wept and called him liar for all he had said before, and he wept too knowing that his deceit had kept him in the dark forest. But the truth is a powerful thing, and it swept like a mighty wind, and moved him from the forest to the very edge of the darkness. And we leave him sitting there, alone, and content, for he knows that in the morning the sun will rise, and he will be dazzled by her beauty again and bathe in her light and warmth.