Post by Admin on Jan 2, 2021 19:03:25 GMT
Author: UnnamedElement
Summary: Legolas, Gimli, and countless Men followed Aragorn “for the love of the Lord of the White Tree.” After Legolas himself willingly and loyally follows Aragorn to Pelargir despite Galadriel’s warning, the wood-elf’s Sea-longing is stirred, and, at first, it devestates him. In this poem, Legolas asks Aragorn for help and so, inadvertantly, asks too for a new home—Ithilien.
Rating: G
I want to slip into the hollow base
of an old tree and melt into its heartwood,
for my own heart has fled me,
caught in the mouth of a gull
like the silver needles I have seen
ripped from those waters.
I wonder if that is how I looked
when I first lost myself?
Flimsy as bait and wriggling?
Gasping for breath and then gone?
I have smelt nothing since but salt.
It kisses tart and burns my skin
when I sweat, or cry—
I am blending into light.
I am a cacophonous song to undo the world,
so loud I cannot hear, the way I imagine drowning.
Aragorn, make me breathe so deeply
that the only thing left of me is Wood:
the hum of cicada,
moths stilled in dew at dawn,
the first fawn spotted among Spring’s first ferns…
Can you give me back that home?
Or make for me a new one?
For this old heart is too tired
to keep my head above water,
and, here, the sun is a thousand mithril scales
that cut more with each wave.
I am soft and I am beached, Aragorn,
raw from my love of this place:
it is for all of that, and you,
that I have given
my heart.
Summary: Legolas, Gimli, and countless Men followed Aragorn “for the love of the Lord of the White Tree.” After Legolas himself willingly and loyally follows Aragorn to Pelargir despite Galadriel’s warning, the wood-elf’s Sea-longing is stirred, and, at first, it devestates him. In this poem, Legolas asks Aragorn for help and so, inadvertantly, asks too for a new home—Ithilien.
Rating: G
I want to slip into the hollow base
of an old tree and melt into its heartwood,
for my own heart has fled me,
caught in the mouth of a gull
like the silver needles I have seen
ripped from those waters.
I wonder if that is how I looked
when I first lost myself?
Flimsy as bait and wriggling?
Gasping for breath and then gone?
I have smelt nothing since but salt.
It kisses tart and burns my skin
when I sweat, or cry—
I am blending into light.
I am a cacophonous song to undo the world,
so loud I cannot hear, the way I imagine drowning.
Aragorn, make me breathe so deeply
that the only thing left of me is Wood:
the hum of cicada,
moths stilled in dew at dawn,
the first fawn spotted among Spring’s first ferns…
Can you give me back that home?
Or make for me a new one?
For this old heart is too tired
to keep my head above water,
and, here, the sun is a thousand mithril scales
that cut more with each wave.
I am soft and I am beached, Aragorn,
raw from my love of this place:
it is for all of that, and you,
that I have given
my heart.