Forager

Ron Koppelberger

Forager

The epitome of mystery for keeps, the foraging bolero, the questing celebration of an enlivened refugee and perfectly faithful circumstance of success. He happened, by accident or fate, to find the beaten fashion of a discarded chalice. The trash was waist deep in the bin; his cloths were second hand castoffs and his ankle length boots were stuffed with paper towels he had grabbed from a gas station restroom.
The chalice was a beacon in a sea of boxes and garbage bags, dull, gold and beaten steel. He imagined ancient knights and holy quests with gleaming eyes and questioning contemplation. A bottle of Victoria Springs water lay tucked away in one of his oil stained backpacks.
To drink just a sip from the chalice might bring him passion, peace and fortune. He grabbed the essence of magic with his stained deeply creased hands and prayed, “ Our father who art in heaven…..”, he began. In a refined crusade he climbed out of the trash bin. The fragile balance of nature and fate led him to pour the contents of his bottled water into the beaten gold and tin can in amorphous pose refined, as a chalice of divinity and ventured absolutes, he drank in slow careful sips.
Long suffering chains broke and the frayed boundary of reality roused his vagabond spirit in passion and rapture, freedom and the glory of sainted repose. He smiled savoring the cool clean spring water. Life was good, better now that he had the chalice.