Your house is a house of travelers A house of many rooms and many windows; climb the stair Throw open the shutters to the cold Song fades below Fires burn slow The time for poetry is long past over Look out, past frost-stark branches Past river deep, past sheltered dale The night is waiting And there, in eastern sky, a rising star
Bright, bright, and distant Free from Shadow’s hand Slow only when observed from where you are
He never tarried, Bilbo’s mariner Yours is a house of travelers
.
They will venture soon from out your door They will carry hope with them, and doom A sword once-broken, weapons from a tomb And the spring-born love of Evenstar Grown strong in summer They will go to war
And you, Half-elven You will watch them go
.
The flame of Elendil climbs the dome of the sky Small only from the ground Untouchable only from far away The cold stings The Shadow gathers The trees are bare And you are far away, and old Who once was young Undying, who once was mortal Your hands on the windowsill folded Your face upturned towards your star
Should it sweep down Should the final battle call it home Should it arc swift over fields you know You would see what your traveler’s heart has never forgotten: Not light, but white prow, wave-splitting And silver sails – yes, you know their shape still And the shape of a seabird’s wings in western sky There has always been a highest window to watch from And winter is the season of remembrance
.
These things call: a jewel, a king’s hand A distant land The sky, the sea
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timeasmymeasure
Fill: Elrond
Date: 2022-07-07 11:41 pm (UTC)Your house is a house of travelers
A house of many rooms and many windows; climb the stair
Throw open the shutters to the cold
Song fades below
Fires burn slow
The time for poetry is long past over
Look out, past frost-stark branches
Past river deep, past sheltered dale
The night is waiting
And there, in eastern sky, a rising star
Bright, bright, and distant
Free from Shadow’s hand
Slow only when observed from where you are
He never tarried, Bilbo’s mariner
Yours is a house of travelers
.
They will venture soon from out your door
They will carry hope with them, and doom
A sword once-broken, weapons from a tomb
And the spring-born love of Evenstar
Grown strong in summer
They will go to war
And you, Half-elven
You will watch them go
.
The flame of Elendil climbs the dome of the sky
Small only from the ground
Untouchable only from far away
The cold stings
The Shadow gathers
The trees are bare
And you are far away, and old
Who once was young
Undying, who once was mortal
Your hands on the windowsill folded
Your face upturned towards your star
Should it sweep down
Should the final battle call it home
Should it arc swift over fields you know
You would see what your traveler’s heart has never forgotten:
Not light, but white prow, wave-splitting
And silver sails – yes, you know their shape still
And the shape of a seabird’s wings in western sky
There has always been a highest window to watch from
And winter is the season of remembrance
.
These things call: a jewel, a king’s hand
A distant land
The sky, the sea
The straightest road was never home to thee