A Fairer than Most Birthday

- jan-u-wine

A fairer than most birth-day



It is my
birth-day.
~  ~ ~  ~ ~ ~
True-silver,
the dawn,
 
light-leaf
shimmering
 
in the grey,
sky-lake
clouds,
 
tattered pink
drifting
 
and giving way
to a brass'd
 
and
fleeted summer
Sun.
 
Later,
 
fog-wisps
yet lying
 
chill
in dips and
 
hollows,
 
my feet find
the narrow
 
curve
of the road,
 
its face dark with
the wet cling
 
of frost,
 
crystal  dew-gems,
(like a drift of autumn snow-arrows)
lying upon lace-puzzle spider webs.
 
I shall walk
very far
 
this day;
 
so far, I imagine,
 
that the stars
shall rise
 
and sing
within the velvet catch-bowl
of the sky
 
before ever
I turn towards
 
Home.
 
The night air
will be sweet and heavy
with Harvest,
 
the wind warm
with the slightest
 
salt of the Sea,
 
the sharpness of it
like a secret
 
unfolding in
the midnight
 
strike of a clock.
 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
 

At the last, I stand
upon the crown of
 
the Hill,
 
the jewel'd finery of night
winking and
 
captured above me,
 
the soft amber-gold
of tallow-fat candles
 
beckoning below....
 
 
Like a friendly hand upon
a wanderer's strayed arm,
 
these kindly lights,
 
like Spring days and Summer nights,
like safe-within-Winter.
 
And I turn to Home,
my feet finding the familiar way,
 
road-dust rising fine
and autumn-leaf scented
about me,
 
smooth-limbed trees
unmoving
 
beneath my touch,
.
yellow-yolked Moon
pulling
 
sleep-cloaked song
from hidden thistle-birds.
 
The round door closes behind me,
hinges
 
lightly heralding the season's change.
 
I smile and touch it,
 
as if it were a beloved face
I should not like to forget.
 
So many things to touch,
 
to love,
to remember,
 
on this,
my birth-day.
 
 
September 22, 1420, S.R.**
 
____________________________
 
**this extraordinary year, in which the devastated Shire was renewed, was called "The Great Year of Plenty".  It was also the last year Frodo celebrated his birthday at Bag End.