Silence. Like the placid surface of a pond. No stirring. No motion.
He stood apart and in a lonely place. A deserted place. Not an outcast but by choice. He was called to this wind-blown terrain of gritty sand and jagged rocks. Days and months he roamed. Restless at times but with purpose. He was never void of purpose. He knew what he was waiting for. He waited and he was alone.
Years of silence all but snuffed the memory of the Words that were spoken. Faded memory turned stories into myths and fairytales. The silence endured for so long.
The wind continued to brush against the rugged plane. Dust clouds billowed and dispersed. On this day his senses were heightened. The atmosphere bulged and grew weighty like an expectant mother's belly. More than just the wind stirred on this day. It disturbed silence's stillness, awakening ripples. Larger and wider the ripples grew until it burst. It burst! At long last silence was shattered. The Word of the Lord came to John.