MOON LETTERS : POETRY
Lothlórien - by Marina Dawson
In your travels you may find a forest fair,
A place that steals your earthly cares
And leaves your soul laid open and bare.
It is Lothlórien.
The hanging mosss phosphorescent glow
Lights the way of the path below.
Journey on and your spirit will grow
The pregnant moon casts down her beams,
Horses shine with an otherworldly gleam.
All is not always as it seems
The noble Lady Galadriel
Gives you one look into her Well.
Beware of what the water will tell
She gives you hope, She calms your fear,
But Her meanings are never clear.
Only the brave of heart can hear
Lay down your burdens and rest for a time
From the relentless pursuit of the Ring-Wraiths nine.
Soothe your spirit and your mind
You are given a chance, albeit brief,
To let the tremendous weight of your grief
Fall to the ground like a fluttering leaf
To the woodland Elves, ancient and wise,
There are few discoveries that cause surprise.
Its easy to let go of earthly ties
But it is not an age for Mortal Men
To dream their lives in a forest glen.
And so your journey does not yet end,