Another small lesson

It was a chilly winter evening, the lamplight beaming down from the night sky. It was breathing yellow light, in an attempt to imitate the sun. As I walked down the ramp to the street, the cold asphalt, radiating peaceful vibes, and the proceeding blackness slowly uniting with the road. My eyes fell on the roadside. I witnessed a creature, one of the billion creations of God. It was a dog, relaxing on its feet, as stray as a weed on a deserted footpath. But he did not seem to care. Neither about the cruelty of the world, the harsh weather nor the sluttishness of time. I rested my bossom on the cold sands and sat beside him. He sensed my presence not more than the chilly winds. I turned to him, looked into his eyes. Like quicksand, his eyes were getting a grip on my regularity. It was not a mirror where you could see yourself. It was a window, a peephole. And I found a story hidden in his eyes. Some grotesque account, something that could not be woven into voices. His eyes sang a ballad his heart wanted to conceal. Silence surrounded him, gloom overpowered him. His innocent face hid the darkest secrets. I sat up on my place and offered him a loaf of bread. Forgetting everything, he consumed it completely, to the last, minutest quantum of it, with a sense of satisfaction man can barely imagine. So I let the silvery moonlight fall upon him as a healer. He reminded me of a past. Another regular evening, another small lesson, guess that is how its meant to proceed.