The Tinmaker's Quest

The Tinmaker’s eyes were dim for a long while after the goddess disappeared.
As Jane held the Tinmaker, she sensed his unease,
for either the goddess’s spell lingered, or it left a touch of madness,
for his eyes always turned toward the sea.

“You wonder about her, don’t you?”
He looked at her in sorrowful anguish.
“I am sorry, dear Jane, every time I turn away from the sea,
it seems as if she beckons me.”

“I cannot have you in my arms like this,” said Jane.
You must go and find out who you love.
Go to her, and answer this question for me.
You cannot be in my arms, thinking of her,
as she could not bear to have you in her arms,
thinking of me.
If you cannot decide, you know you shall have neither of us.
Go, and see if she is really the one for you,
for I love you, Tinmaker, and your happiness is important to me.
It would kill me if I could not help you in your sorrow.”

“It is not that I regret not taking my advantage with her,” said the Tinmaker,
but I sense that she has lost her heart,
and I have an overwhelming urge to help her find it again.
Yes, the danger is that, if found, my heart and hers may attach,
and I would be lost to you;
but if her heart if lost beyond repair,
then I shall surely return to you, and my quest would be over,
my mind and heart clear again,
and I would fully love you, and hold you sacred, as you so deserve,
for the rest of my days,
for do you not remember our wedding vows?”

“Yes,” said Jane.
“Do you, Tinmaker, accept the gift of marriage from this woman, Jane, that you love so dearly, the one woman who holds your hope, peace, happiness, bliss, and contentment, and to keep her sacred in your heart for the rest of your days?”
“I do.”

“Do you, Jane, accept the gift of marriage from this man, the Tinmaker, that you love so dearly, who offered you dreams, thanks, admiration, and his deepest love, and to hold him sacred in your heart until the end of his days?”
“I Do.”

“Then go,” said Jane. Either come to fully love her, or I,
do this for me, and for your own sake, for your heart is torn.”

The Tinmaker set out toward the sea,
in a boat made to seek out the islands.
The weather was stormy the entire journey,
his heart, foreboding, and the goddess was elusive.
Perhaps she had not beckoned him, thought the Tinmaker,
and she had completely turned away already...

At the height of his doubts he found the islands,
and he came upon the goddess’s dwelling, in the pouring rain.

All was silent for a long while. Then the door opened.
“Tinmaker.” is all she said.
Then, “Have you come here to find pleasure, then leave?”

“Greetings, Goddess Mermaid of the Islands,” said the Tinmaker.
Do you think that I, or any decent man,
would come here, find his pleasure, then leave?
You are used to dealing with trash, Goddess,
and you have completely lost your heart because of it,
for what heart would expose itself
to that kind of pain, emptiness, and abuse
time and time again?”

“I have come to help you find your heart, Goddess,
and, if it be my fate, to allow my heart to attach,
and be yours forever.

Jane knows I am on this quest,
for me to finally come to know whether I shall be fully hers,
or fully yours.”

The Goddess appeared ready to argue every point,
and ridicule the Tinmaker for thinking that she needed help.
Then she gave a look as if she desired a second chance.

The Tinmaker continued.
“With me, your heart would never again be exposed to trash,
and would never again have a need to hide away.
If you find I am not adequate for you,
then I shall leave, and you may find your God."

“Tinmaker,” she finally replied.
“Thank you for the 'out', but you would not need it.”

The Tinmaker continued.
“If we found your heart and we joined,
I know we would be good for one another, Goddess,
for I would bring out the woman in you, as any base man could,
but without your heart’s sacrifice;
and I would help you realize your potential;
just as you would bring out the man in me, as you already have done,
and you would be an inspiration for me to realize my potential,
as you already have been.
We have had hard, painful differences, yet we compliment each other, Goddess,
in style, in philosophy, and in life...
and it would be truly sad if we cannot be.

The Goddess did not move.

The Tinmaker continued.
“I do not blame you, Goddess, for losing your heart,
for I know that tragedy follows beauty in a cruel world,
and self-destructiveness follows close after.
If your heart is truly lost, the I will return to Jane.
If your heart is found, and we still cannot connect,
then I will return to Jane, my mind and heart at ease,
knowing that I have tried to love you, and failed.”

The Goddess told the Tinmaker to let her think,
and she shut the door.

The Tinmaker made camp, and waited. Days passed. 
He did not know if the Goddess accepted his views,
and was drawin courage,
or if she simply scoffed and left him there,
feeling that she did not need his help, a mere mortal,
walking among Gods as she did...

As he slept, his dreams would soar with her,
as he woke, his heart would ache for her.

Days turned to weeks. The Goddess's door remained closed.
It seemed that her answer had been given,
and the Tinmaker began to break camp...











to be continued... as it is lived.