Sep. 22nd, 2017

missroserose: (After the Storm)
I find myself wondering about humanity. Their attitude to my sister's gift is so strange. Why do they fear the sunless lands? It is as natural to die as it is to be born. But they fear her. Dread her. Feebly they attempt to placate her. They do not love her.

Many thousands of years ago, I heard a song in a dream, a mortal song that celebrated her gift. I still remember it.

"Death is before me today:
Like the recovery of a sick man,
Like going forth into a garden after sickness.

"Death is before me today:
Like the odor of myrrh,
Like sitting under a sail in a good wind.

"Death is before me today:
Like the course of a stream,
Like the return of a man from the war-galley to his house.

"Death is before me today:
Like the home that a man longs to see,
After years spent as a captive."


I never got to meet Jim Rothfuss in person, but through an odd turning of fate we've exchanged Christmas cards and letters these past several years. I can only say that the world needs more souls of his gentle and kind nature, and I'm glad I had the opportunity to know some little portion of his life, completely separate from my great enjoyment of his son's work.

Go easily and well, Mr. Rothfuss. And thank you.

(Attribution, and for the poem.)

Profile

missroserose: (Default)
Rose

October 2017

S M T W T F S
123 456 7
8910 11121314
151617 1819 2021
22232425262728
293031    

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Oct. 20th, 2017 05:41 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios