And, once it was...

Tonight, the oneiric draw of Alfheim is strong, moving me to write on the eve of a moment in Earth's history, and, Lest We Forget...

Old lives, they pull

Across worlds and memory; the call,

Sweet as mead and twice as heady.

Like a breath of forest wind, so ephemeral,

So richly abundant in its promise

They cannot be contained by this fragile form.

Softly, I reach to touch a shadow and

Time pours vapours like tendrils of smoke

half-remembered, half imagined...

Full ripe with the love of how it was,

How it may be again.

I think, I feel, I see them

Close now, like reflections in a shattered mirror

Pieces of history. My ancient chronicle

How dear I hold them, piercing my heart

Knowing they can are lost, but yet wishing

Sensing their reach into the now

Always present, forever past.