My Awakening
Categories: General
By Erynir, 7/7/2009 9:11 PM - 305 reads.
I do not remember the first time I heard a tree speak. The sound of the tree was slight, as a mere breath might be slight compared to the wind. I heard the tree speak more as a song that completed, and only well after. The sun rose on a particular day of days, when the sweet water of the Nimrodel flowed across my hand and the light littered the forest floor - I knew on that morning that I had heard a tree speaking. I did not know the tree and though I searched in those lands for years after, I could not tell one tree to another in the way of its awakening.
It was four years to the day that I heard and recognized a word among many words. U-hanyanyel the tree had said in a string of words that I came upon as the sun settled. I do not understand you. I had been singing the Lay of Nimrodel!
I spied a tree leaning across the river itself, an elm of sorts with leaves that did not shift and flicker as the breeze flew cool across the Golden Wood. I do not remember elm along the river. The word was strong. Clear. U-hanyanyel. All the previous words and the ones after were creaks and whispers I strained to hear. I sung again.
Beside the falls of Nimrodel By water clear and cool Her voice was falling silver fell Into the shining pool
The tree did not speak again - that I can relate as speaking in our old language - and we sat together at the river bank as the day fell away to moonlight.
The Dumbing of the World
Categories: General
By Erynir, 7/5/2009 10:24 AM - 275 reads.
The Dumbing of the World was a thing lost in favor of enlightened thought - enlightened thought? The succor of difference of the Firstborn, is that enlightened? Is there any less true light between the Eldar and the Avari? The Tree-speakers to whom the trees sometimes tell their tales speak of the trees being cured of their dumbness. Missing in these tales is the trees' complete fable.
When the trees woke from the long sleep of Yavanna, they had been dumb for innumerable lifetimes since their creation by Yavanna Kementari. Dumbness. That word is too hasty a thing for a tree. Dumb is not a word meaning the lack of intelligence or lack of grace or a having a parcel of ignorance, but dumb as in not having needed a thing. What use the words of Elves or Men to such a creature? The Elves begun it, the curing to and from the various things of the world. Nwalyen len! I am sad!
The True-tellers
Categories: General
By Erynir, 7/1/2009 8:08 PM - 309 reads.
The Time of Awakening along the Shore - what could have the first Elven eyes glimpsed dim in the starlight of Varda Elentari? What difference of you and I then? The sweet succor of no-difference is the poet's riddle to attend the audience. Purity-bound The.
The trees awoke with us after their long Sleep of Yavanna, unspoken? A false tale - the trees spoke The along the Cuivienen and forest-ranges from sea to sea as the Elves taught difference to themselves. Wind and rain and starlight touched the trees as they touched Elven-kind, and yet we failed to speak first as the trees spoke The under the caress of these elements. Listen peaceful of the wind rustle of leaves and the tap of rain, you will hear the True-tales of the world. The True-tellers of speech are not first the Elves, but the trees and the grass below them.
The True-tales do not story-weave difference as one part against another part - a whole tale, to each combined.
Rain and wind settle to the leaf of tree. The water slips to grass.
Purity-bound The.
The Name of The Thing
Categories: General
By Erynir, 7/1/2009 7:01 PM - 308 reads.
An aira ar eleni! The care of answering a question of the tree-herds is naught to the care of asking the question. It is no use to speak if you do not have something to say, and the care of saying is the uttermost prospect of care an Elf can bestow; to oneself and to the tree.
Name yourself. The tree-herds do still speak in rough Westron, though the best of their speech is Entish and the middle-ground is a mix of Entish and Quenya. Estanyen Erynir, I might say to the Shipwright of the Grey Havens and He himself would know I mean me. Estanyen Erynir to a tree-herd has no meaning. Nanye quende has no meaning. What am I? To the tree-herd, I am from my beginning and my various explorations and ideas to the day of omentielmo / our meeting to the concept of beyond today and the dreamings of the children of Eru Iluvatar.
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