Astute, Astuteness, Ascent, Ascend, Ascension

They had traveled over two mountains, each ascent steeper than the other. The Child looked ahead at the third. In her astuteness, she wondered if the Raccoon knew where he was going and pondered over whether she should continue the journey or strike out on her own.

“I hear you thinking, Child?”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Oh, what if?”

“What if what, Child?”

“You’re lost.”

“So you think I’m lost?”

“Aren’t you?”

Mr. Raccoon stopped, and she almost walked into his backside.

“I’m not lost, Child. I know exactly where I’m going.”

“Then, why aren’t we there, Mr. Raccoon? All we’re doing is climbing a mountain.”

“Pretty astute, Child.”

“Don’t have to be astute to notice we keep climbing the same mountain.”

“What makes you think that, Child?”

“Because it is. We’re lost.”

“Ah so,” chuckled Mr. Raccoon and kept walking.

“Are we going to ascend that same mountain tonight, Mr. Raccoon?”

“It’s not the same, Child. It looks the same, but it’s different.”

“I hope I meet The Prophet on time.”

“You will.”

“Doesn’t look so. I hope The Prophet waits.”

“He won’t have to wait.”

“Do you always travel at night, Mr. Raccoon?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It’s safer.”

“Why safer?”

“I love the ascension, Child.”

“Is ascension climbing higher, Mr. Raccoon?”

“Your astuteness astounds me, Child.”

“You mean ascending out of darkness into light?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Ascension is much sweeter, Child.”

“That’s nonsense.”

“You’ll see.”

“See what, Mr. Raccoon?”

“That it’s so.”

Tired of the ascent, The Child wanted to rest.  A familiar voice whispered,

“Come, Child, I’m waiting around the bend.”

“I’m coming, Prophet,” The Child mumbled, astonished. “I’m coming.”

“You say something?”

“He’s here, Mr. Raccoon. I heard The Prophet.”

“Of course, he’s here, Child. He’s always here.”

Shalom Aleichem,

Pat Garcia