Diadem’s Folly – 3

Arisen from my dreaming to such an alarm, I could hear not but my heart; blood running my veins. My guide, she stood still with locking gaze. If one could give silence after such an intimate use of blade then I should expect no word from her barren lips, but the complacency of these waking dreams – I still embrace to the warmth of such a cold chance – She cut her gaze towards East. I presume we are behind and without time. Yet she remains stoically leveled. For reason I could not discern, I sense this disconcerting calm would soon be stirred. She moves and simultaneously I alert to the falling of limbs cracking through the unsettled quiet of the wood. Her hand placed upon the trunk of a massive Wilder tree, not even a flinch as the splinters flew about the air whiffing her hair. Looking upon her demeanor I seem to replicate it. It’s as if every step she takes, every hand placed, works to awaken some great image within me. I feel urged to welcome it.

There is a reason we tread with a hop in our step.

Diadem’s Folly – 2

She’s beautiful. I state it simply because there is no complexity in notion; but her smile. It casts mystery, and with that shadows o’er complexity; as her presence makes certain that she is awakened to some truth to which I am yet asleep. I shant press her to answer, as our silence in travel seems to be such, alluding to my motioning mind, liken to a light which one’s eyes can not catch, yet warmth and fire can be felt, I revel in this flame, as if it is a certainty, one that I know will come to faith if given the life to nourish to a peak and fruit upon my tongue, or hers. But I am brought to water, that she is of few breaths raised for ear. I lose train of thought, and feel as though touched upon shoulder by breath, her voice, but my body is not given sense; only perceived by the consciousness. Her voice resounds the walls of my sanctuary; I can not give word to an infatuation only given life by my vision’s desire to incept a voice as truthful as light. My mind dances between waves of aether and as my body seems free of all physical restraint, I am shattered all at once as I come alert, a body awaken; She, the beauty that has yet to give voice to quench my thirst, has drawn my blood. Awakening me from a calm, my attentiveness required. I pause in hopes of word exchange, none come my way. I perplex of a women who would sink blade to open eye all without pass of one word. To think I’ve not even spoken to raise cause and may too soon have found the bad side of such beautiful flawlessness. My body is once again at calm, but to my observable perception I can conceive no motive from her. She refuses to give me word of our direction all I can gather is East.

I hope you know I could only be here so long,
It may not be enough of me to keep you strong,
but your troubles are not for me to solve
I’m sorry I can’t be the one for you,
I can’t muster the strength for what you must do

Diadem’s Folly

I search and search through endless streams,
for some contemplation that satisfies, as your touch,
even the thought of drinking from your cup;
The only thing I’ve found is drinking from my own.

“Look boy,” spoke the old tree, “you’ve been here a long time.” Startled, Diadem jolted awake. From his lips he let slip into the moist air, “Did you just speak to me?” The wind rushed and Diadem braced to hold his posture. “Quiet, boy. This is no foolish matter.” He recognized that maybe just this once he should hold his silver tongue. The old Grimly tree continued. “You did arrive here many ages past, long before me, and still you are stuck.” Befuddled, Diadem tried to intuit the true meaning of the tree’s words, if indeed it was saying anything at all. It was rather difficult to believe that now he was talking with, or at least hearing the words of a tree.

“You see I’m a tree,” it went on, “I have only ever had a perspective of the world around me from right here. It takes a long while for me to branch out to the world, let alone to the cosmos. Sure every now and then I pick something up that gets left around by the locals or travelers, but for the most part it has been just me, and mine. Which of course is yours and everyone else’s too, but that’s beside my bark.”

Now Diadem was sure he was in his own mind, but this was something he felt was of importance to him. He stayed quiet. “Are you listening boy, you ought to listen to this,” it swayed, “I’m pointing out that you have had all the opportunity to reach the corners of existence and you still can’t figure it, let alone you, out. The perspectives you’ve shared have long resonated their truths with you.” Diadem relaxed, and attempted to sort out his head. “Is this some insanity of mine tryi…” The old Grimly stirred up the wind again. “Now boy, this is no insanity of yours trying to shake your limbs! As if you even had limbs worth shaking,” the tree chuckled derisively. “Insanity would blow those tiny saps away.”

Diadem stayed quiet, indicating he was ready to listen. “Once again the Grimly moved onward. “You have everything you could possibly need not to mention the potential for everything and more.” The tree fell silent. Diadem started pacing out time in his thoughts. “So how long have I been here?” The old Grimly howled, ” Long enough for you to be stuck boy, and that’s the worst you could be. I’ve never left this place, and I’d still rather be a tree than stuck.” The woods sang an eerie tune. Diadem pondered.

Reaching towards your face I hear you say, “Burn me.”
Condemnation I’ve been struck, the right cord plucked.
Now I prepare the sail, to travail, with sights on the grail;
I’ll find the way, compass arrow, chasing sparrows.