Across the Blue Wind
Dec 19, 2018 11:45:09 GMT -5
Post by Aragorn on Dec 19, 2018 11:45:09 GMT -5
There is a place in Rivendell where the wind is blue.
It is here, amongst the wide earth, where the sky and the ground become one being. It is a swift union, like an unforeseen kiss, and in this meeting the stars are at their most pure. Men have described the grass here as brighter, and the soil softer. But Estel, privy to the minds of the everlasting peoples, know that there is an old magic here, and it is full of memory.
The trees in the Hithaeglir have watched lovers twist together in an eternal promise; they have seen children born to crying mothers, and fathers in awe; and they have seen the sweetness of love fold into sorrow, when all the wild days of a life in full bloom are drawn to a premature close.
In this quiet corner of Middle Earth, Estel has spent many of his hot-paced years. The elves pass through in silence, drinking in the ancient tales that the foliage whispers. In all his humble humanity, Estel will never know the stories these brilliant people know, for he is but a roaring being, not one kissed by the stars.
But it brings him peace. And so, Estel sits under the blooming branches of a sapphire dogwood, letting the sky and earth intertwine all around him.
Silver flow the streams from Celos to Erui
In the green lands of Lebennin.
Tall grows the grass there. In the wind from the Sea
The white lilies sway,
And the golden bells are shaken of mallos and alfirin
In the green fields of Lebennin,
In the wind from the Sea.
Fate is kind, for though he is full of fiery life, this is the place where even men can feel immortal.
It is here, amongst the wide earth, where the sky and the ground become one being. It is a swift union, like an unforeseen kiss, and in this meeting the stars are at their most pure. Men have described the grass here as brighter, and the soil softer. But Estel, privy to the minds of the everlasting peoples, know that there is an old magic here, and it is full of memory.
The trees in the Hithaeglir have watched lovers twist together in an eternal promise; they have seen children born to crying mothers, and fathers in awe; and they have seen the sweetness of love fold into sorrow, when all the wild days of a life in full bloom are drawn to a premature close.
In this quiet corner of Middle Earth, Estel has spent many of his hot-paced years. The elves pass through in silence, drinking in the ancient tales that the foliage whispers. In all his humble humanity, Estel will never know the stories these brilliant people know, for he is but a roaring being, not one kissed by the stars.
But it brings him peace. And so, Estel sits under the blooming branches of a sapphire dogwood, letting the sky and earth intertwine all around him.
Silver flow the streams from Celos to Erui
In the green lands of Lebennin.
Tall grows the grass there. In the wind from the Sea
The white lilies sway,
And the golden bells are shaken of mallos and alfirin
In the green fields of Lebennin,
In the wind from the Sea.
Fate is kind, for though he is full of fiery life, this is the place where even men can feel immortal.