The Calm - An Anariarch Musing
If one sits upon a stone so calm, if one glances far up above, they might see feathers, rent from angel wings so bright; I have seen such a sight. A single feather brings peace so clear. A single thought, spreads a message so profound; very deep, I find them still. Floating above a pond, or flowing amongst a river. Stuck on a branch, or among the roses; once I saw a Feather in my Tea, its fluff shining through the morning mist, as a lighthouse amidst high cliffs. I sit in my kitchen, about me there are herbs and spices, an aroma here and there, even incense puffs from a stalk, fastened to a holder, as wise as time. There are plants that perk the eyes and give amusing blooms. Flowers spread their pollen; my nose is stalwart at their scent, never sneezing yet at once allured. Peace come to my mind; I sip my tea, it is very fine. My House is clearly divine.
Beyond this table, at which I sit, behind me lie two open doors, a gateway to my Garden. But with this morning light, at once reveals, past clouds heavy and moist, their mist did fall to Earth earlier today; I did not join the fray. Rather than flee from rain heavensent, I sat in my kitchen, brewing Tea, yes, Tea so fine and fair. The magical sensation fills my lips, as if a maiden had just kissed me dear, and very sweetly did its taste flow down my throat so meek; from here these words do speak.
I am harried by the pen, it beckons me to write. Yet even as these words flow, I only wish to be free of plight.
If only there was some magic, some lore to set me free.
If only I could win the games of chance I play, and win good coin; earned by name.
This I wish, twas my fathers thought. He is passed now and could not see...
Perhaps tomorrow, I will win the game of chance...
He spent a lifetime playing, to little avail...
I will succeed where he failed.