Post by seedyduncan on Oct 6, 2004 11:45:30 GMT -5
Herein, dear friends, is written a little something
inspired by The Silmarillion, hope you enjoy it.
-sd
Starlight falls on icy loam and crackling turf
and dances silver on mourning aspen and birch
it's brightness chasing blackness to the farthest reach
of nights domed expanse
till all heaven shines in blackest black.
footstep by footstep I pass the frozen fields
and on down brown hills and snow covered rushes
by the water
wordless sad songs of wind passing over stones
pushing me backward and sideward and piercing
my bones
no living thing goes unmarked in shimmering brightness
cruel, allowing no hiding place
no living thing marks my passing and wind's icy fingers sweep
the ground to nullify my journey's progress
the thoughts of no one pursue me from the past
and there is no place of return
grief from past wars and aching wounds torment each footstep
the voice of cold death dogs each breath
my eyes are hard fixed on the empty northward horizon
endless white ground with no hint of hope to slake the wanderer
on and on I step through severe valleys ringed by unforgiving peaks
scarred mountains whose height forbids passage
answering down to me a certain death
at the edge of world's end I stare down on the pitching waves
of the dark northern sea
I wait on the cliff's edge and only then look up into the night sky
there I find waiting for me with ancient patience
light pure from the longest of all journeys, constant yet instant
speaking to my soul a private message of life
a long awaited purposeful encounter
I turn, labouring down from the mountainsides
I follow the shoreline and pass again southward
across the long frozen waste toward the distant southern hills
no true hope remains of again knowing a friendly hand or healing touch
strength long spent, each step sustained only
by a gentle urging of starlight's voice
Sadly I enter the wood of the northern hills
surrounded with hemlocks
tall firs hide the path ahead and silver maple's leafless arms
reach into the frozen air, windless, silent, and quiet
gently from the distance comes a sound of purest joy, light,
twinkling on the night air
a thankful song telling of all of heaven's plenty, ample bread,
hopeful mornings, sunshine, and the songs of all the birds
I step through deep snow to the frozen banks of the river
and through the trees, in a clearing I see her
fair, clothed all in white and starlight
dancing with happiness
Would anyone care tell whom this tale describes?
inspired by The Silmarillion, hope you enjoy it.
-sd
Starlight falls on icy loam and crackling turf
and dances silver on mourning aspen and birch
it's brightness chasing blackness to the farthest reach
of nights domed expanse
till all heaven shines in blackest black.
footstep by footstep I pass the frozen fields
and on down brown hills and snow covered rushes
by the water
wordless sad songs of wind passing over stones
pushing me backward and sideward and piercing
my bones
no living thing goes unmarked in shimmering brightness
cruel, allowing no hiding place
no living thing marks my passing and wind's icy fingers sweep
the ground to nullify my journey's progress
the thoughts of no one pursue me from the past
and there is no place of return
grief from past wars and aching wounds torment each footstep
the voice of cold death dogs each breath
my eyes are hard fixed on the empty northward horizon
endless white ground with no hint of hope to slake the wanderer
on and on I step through severe valleys ringed by unforgiving peaks
scarred mountains whose height forbids passage
answering down to me a certain death
at the edge of world's end I stare down on the pitching waves
of the dark northern sea
I wait on the cliff's edge and only then look up into the night sky
there I find waiting for me with ancient patience
light pure from the longest of all journeys, constant yet instant
speaking to my soul a private message of life
a long awaited purposeful encounter
I turn, labouring down from the mountainsides
I follow the shoreline and pass again southward
across the long frozen waste toward the distant southern hills
no true hope remains of again knowing a friendly hand or healing touch
strength long spent, each step sustained only
by a gentle urging of starlight's voice
Sadly I enter the wood of the northern hills
surrounded with hemlocks
tall firs hide the path ahead and silver maple's leafless arms
reach into the frozen air, windless, silent, and quiet
gently from the distance comes a sound of purest joy, light,
twinkling on the night air
a thankful song telling of all of heaven's plenty, ample bread,
hopeful mornings, sunshine, and the songs of all the birds
I step through deep snow to the frozen banks of the river
and through the trees, in a clearing I see her
fair, clothed all in white and starlight
dancing with happiness
Would anyone care tell whom this tale describes?
