A pilgrim of adventure unknown, the Cen places a single page upon her sleepless cot. The corners of the parchment dance with gold leaf filigree, familiar to any who have witnessed the elf recite from Story Time. Upon the page, dappled with salty water, is scribbled a draft of one of the first ramblings she composed during her precious time amongst her grim family. Perhaps this excerpt will comfort her kin, here, at the other side of their journey together.
Toting only her stave and tome, she departs from the grim halls to find her travelling partner, the cat Brast. Where the elf drifts ethereal, the feline is a beast grounded in the carnal; she knows he will be furious to be torn from his pack, but together they will learn much.
Life is a wonderful mystery, and to experience that wonder, sometimes, one must tread blindly. Smiling her quirky grin, the wanderer wipes fruitlessly at the tears upon her face. "Mhm, mhm... and now: the unknown."
***
Once upon a time, a then or yet to come,
A one who was a wanderer did find herself a home.
A home, but what is that? A place to rest her head?
Or something more than roof and floor, for resting are the dead.
“And what can one soul bring”, she asks, “revolving is the tour:
Time rolls on, its players pass, but something must endure…”
Between the pieces shuffling, to-and-fro upon the board,
A space persists betwixt the each in which the other’s known.
And this, alone, is what will stay as every piece decays.
Relationship within the whole is what defines the game.
And so the elf made pilgrimage to walk the road again,
In service to adventure she'll do service to her kin.
For everything is unified within the sands that fall,
So seeking stories yet unknown, she'll honor each as all.
***
Once upon a time, a then or yet to come,
A one who was a wanderer did find herself a home.
A home, but what is that? A place to rest her head?
Or something more than roof and floor, for resting are the dead.
“And what can one soul bring”, she asks, “revolving is the tour:
Time rolls on, its players pass, but something must endure…”
Between the pieces shuffling, to-and-fro upon the board,
A space persists betwixt the each in which the other’s known.
And this, alone, is what will stay as every piece decays.
Relationship within the whole is what defines the game.
And so the elf made pilgrimage to walk the road again,
In service to adventure she'll do service to her kin.
For everything is unified within the sands that fall,
So seeking stories yet unknown, she'll honor each as all.
***
(( I am departing to go and pursue a dream which has long been gnawing within me, needing full creative attention. I am preparing to go travel the world to serve my writing. I may live a while with the Maasai in Tanzania, or I may hermit away on an island in the Aegean: my trip will be full of whimsy. But these months ahead are a time to prepare myself for it, and so to all of you a bid the most heartfelt adieu. It has been beyond wonderful adventuring with you and I wish you all joy, joy, and joy!
I will stay in touch.
Cen/Brast - Caleb ))
