meaning

lost faith, an imaginary tale base don the fact that i no longer see my station Christians..
(totally fictional :-))
this is what happens if you read a happy death on the way on the train ;-)

He was a lonely man, his faith was his strength, his strength was his faith.

Every day he stood their eyes closed beneath the bush shelter on the southern side of the station in the shade. He stood there with a purpose eyes wide shut praying to a God that gave his life meaning. Other days he just sat there reading the Book, over and over the words flowing in him creating meaning in a life that made no sense. What was this elusive thing he called happiness, come rain come shine this was his spot, every day he stood steadfast like a soldier imbibing the spirit. That was real he experienced it, he did not falter, he did not fall, he stood tall, he was one of God's soldiers. Nothing could shake his faith, this was his life, his life had meaning, this was the meaning, this was his life, it was great.  Everything was grey, people had a grayness and darkness around him, yet his inner light shone through all of this without faltering. He had purpose in this dark and godless city, he was in praise of the glory that was and is and always will be.

He had forgotten about the flowers along the way, they had always been an inspiration, a mirror of the glory that radiated around him. Things seemed different to him today, he could not really figure it out. These feelings came and went, the glory ebbed and flowed like the tides on onehunga bay. How he wished he was standing next to the radio masts, immense in size and structure. The wind whistling through the cables, the crazy fractal patterns that were created by the wind creating wave apon wave of movement, neigh standing waves. This was good, but he could not go there, it was with sadness his mind went back to that day.

IT is not he who questions who wins the race, it is not he who wonders, it is he who races who wins. He stodo there standing looking at this piece of text etched in the marble base of the statue, its weathered and lichen pocked surface was a mere smidgen of its past glory, but somehow the new natural patina created by the elements did something to enhance and change his view of this sculpture. Every day he walked past he was captivated by the beauty of it, but inside he could not reconcile the idolatry, the thoughts it brought up inside him. This was wrong, these were Pagan idols, demi Gods. Why he questioned, why did he have to walk this way every day, be faced with this thing of beauty, this thing that tested him. He would be strong, he would not falter, his faith would be strong or would it?  How could it be that he found such solace staring at this heretical beast, he then slowly and deliberately started repeating the mantra that helped him through these moments, it had always explained and given meaning to situations like these .... "The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. And like that, poof. He's gone." and he wondered was this real, he knew he had heard this somewhere and there it was gone again. He stood their staring lovingly, not knowing why the vision of Pan, neigh the evil looking abomination spoke to something inside of him. He knew not what this was? The vision of the water nymphs, the hedgerows.. What he had never seen a water nymph let alone a hedgerow. What si this thing he called reality, something had happened.

He cleared his mind of these heretical thoughts, comforting himself as he grasped for the book on the inside of  his jacket, the hardness of its outer cover and backing comforted him in his time of need. As he turned the corner he knew he would see the cross peaking through the trees from the small anglican church, No a truck was blocking his view, slowly it moved, he craned his neck and all was back to normal again. He could continue along with his walk to the depths of a life he could not understand nor believe in, but was forced into. Inside he knew he had the strength to continue this day, and the next and the next.