Thursday, March 11, 2010

For A Long Time

I have not laid my fingers to the keys
To pen a message for this screen
For a long time

I had not pressed my heart onto a page
Nor looked deep into another's face
For so long

So full has my life been, overwhelmed
With old things, with heartbreak, with calm
For a long time

Now my heartbeat is measured and deep, and
The thoughts of my soul are laid in my hand
For so long

That I must press the words from my fingertips
And sing His song from my trembling lips
For a long time


Ision found the family in the large-room, the table at the far end of the room still laid with breakfast.  They had eaten, it seemed, but talk had kept them from rising to continue the day.  Their faces were serious, grouped about each other, their voices rising and falling in heavy tones.
“Good morning.”
They looked up at him.  Lady Ceamyst rose.
“Forgive us for our laxity.  Family matters are distracting us.”  She smiled, and directed his gaze to the untidy table.  “Let me get you a plate”.
He found a seat, and she brought him a a platter of breakfast.  There were creamed brown roots, ornamented with dried delphiniums, thin slivers of mango, and a pastry tinged with the blue color of a marshy Esallan flower.  He ate, feeling his body relax under the gentle comfort of the simple, hearty repast.
They were not talking now.  The girls had risen, and the table was soon swept clean of the meal.  The dishes were carried to the long counter and sink at the farthest end of the extensive room, and a general business ensued as the sylph went briskly about their work.  Ision watched with curious interest.  They were ladies, princesse, according to their rank as daughters of an Esallan Lord, yet they busied themselves with common tasks, undaunted, as if there was nothing strange in it.
Aldwin came to sit beside him.  
“How was the bed?  Did you sleep alright?”
Ision nodded.  “If anything kept me awake, ‘twas not the bed.  My thoughts would not quiet themselves, and my body is not used to unconscious sleep.  When one is constantly traveling, finding one’s bed in strange places, one sleeps half awake.”  He set down his empty plate.  “But it will wear off.  I’ll soon sleep quiet at night.”  Then he turned, seriously, to the young faerie who sat beside him.  “How do I get started here, Aldwin?  Where do I find a home?  How do I learn the ways of the islanders?”
Aldwin grinned.  “It isn’t difficult.  Esallan folk are simple living, as I see you’ve noticed.”  He gestured at his sisters.  “We live, despite our rank, like everyone else.  Only, we have a larger home.”  He smiled again, proud, Ision could see, of his family, and his people.  “I’ll take you to the village today.”  He said.  “I can show you around, let you speak with our home-builders.  It won’t take long, and soon you’ll be settled here just like one of us.”
Ision rose.  “Do you mind if we go now?  I should like to be started.”  He felt his heart rise.  Yes, he would like to get started, as soon as ever he could.  The missing threads awaited him.  
Aldwin nodded and stood.  “Let’s be off then.”