As I am not alone.
Things are so different these days.
I wake up among scholars, in Crystal Valley. They see me neither as above them nor as too absorbed in my books; we share our thoughts. I keep long daily journals, mostly notes to myself about what I have seen and heard and learned, things to follow up on, words to remember. I walk in the gardens. I am not harangued. I live in peace.
Magic flows through my veins. It is not faint, but it is tingling. Beneath the lovely sparkling sensation there is a current so strong and deep I could lose myself in my own blood. But I cannot, because somewhere I hold on, and it washes through me and leaves me breathless on the shores of beauty. It is within me now, and will never cease.
I never thought I could live again. I thought I had done all I would do, that I had made my best effort and now, away, to sleep. But I am marvellously aware. I breathe, I laugh, I walk. I write in ink and I weave in magic. I am alive as I have ever been; more so, I think, for fulfilment is a stronger form of life. I sing lullabies, and I cradle the children of spirits in my hands, and I keep them, as am I, safe and loved.
I wake up among scholars, in Crystal Valley. They see me neither as above them nor as too absorbed in my books; we share our thoughts. I keep long daily journals, mostly notes to myself about what I have seen and heard and learned, things to follow up on, words to remember. I walk in the gardens. I am not harangued. I live in peace.
Magic flows through my veins. It is not faint, but it is tingling. Beneath the lovely sparkling sensation there is a current so strong and deep I could lose myself in my own blood. But I cannot, because somewhere I hold on, and it washes through me and leaves me breathless on the shores of beauty. It is within me now, and will never cease.
I never thought I could live again. I thought I had done all I would do, that I had made my best effort and now, away, to sleep. But I am marvellously aware. I breathe, I laugh, I walk. I write in ink and I weave in magic. I am alive as I have ever been; more so, I think, for fulfilment is a stronger form of life. I sing lullabies, and I cradle the children of spirits in my hands, and I keep them, as am I, safe and loved.