Friday, December 01, 2006


In every battle, each impossible quest, heartsore, deep weariness of soul, yet strong in resolution (for pain, doubt don't matter, die has been cast, choices made), but oh, in each instance of the magical quests of yore, fraught with dangers, all those tales read at night to sleepy children of the generations, there is a time, a pause, for appreciation of matters, simple matters, a glass of wine, a clasped hand, savory meal, happy music revelry or silent glance, a moment to refresh and enjoy, pleasure made that much deeper in contrast with dangers and terrors ahead.

Oh, a fine line to tread in this enjoyment, can't forget the reason it appears to begin with, earned from, pulled from our own torn and accepted fate, gods providing blessed refreshment for the weary only to cast us back into the fray, to win, to lose, the only sure thing the struggle itself.

So that in the end, even if crowned with glory and power, even if golden treasures overflow the hold of our ship, what is remembered as highest value, with greatest love, is the pause, simple pleasure thereof.


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