Master Periem Clivase, former leader of the Wintermist Wanderers once said to me, “We are all but grains of dust in this life, forever carried on the shoulders of some new storm. Raindrops may bring us together for a time, rivers may tear us apart for another, but we all find our way to the bottom of the sea in the end.” In that vein, I present, “An Ode to a Feather in the Morning Storm”:
O! feather of the Raven in the morn,
Whose barbs conversed with dawn light’s stirring breeze,
May golden rays for evermore adorn
Your name and face though all eternities.
Though tempests tear asunder every course,
And time and silence rive all twining trails,
Though destiny command each path diverge,
We leave each fork and turn with no remorse;
We catch that breath that bore you in our sails,
And onward steer our ship behind your surge.
The torchlight over Renwood spoke your name,
A whispered gratitude toward its son,
Or maybe twas a hymn gasped by the flames,
Remembering its guardian in song.
Your ever-changing face a constant smile,
Your mind as rich and vivid as the sea,
Your crystal sword as long as eyes could aim,
Your subtle, sly, and deftly nimble guile,
Your deadly knack for curiosity,
Your fury piqued, impossible to tame.
Most of all, however, we remember
The steady, loyal presence of our friend,
Whose warmth stays past the last dying ember,
So badger to the bone until the end.
And so, farewell, wherever you are gone,
Whatever journey waits for you ahead,
Our cause to yours, until the end, is joined;
Remember, when the curtain’s finally drawn,
I love you and the ruby in my head
Is worth a hundred shiny golden coins.