Now Far Ahead the Road has Gone

- jan-u-wine
Frodo and Bilbo in the wagon on the way to the Havens

            It is gone for ever



            is dark and empty.

            ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

            I am glad we are granted
            this moment

            and place
            to speak together quietly.

            Frighteningly fragile he is in my arms,
            pulse threading thin against my cheek.

            The wrinkled whisper of his voice
            stutters upon my ear.

            I remember.

            His tales

            His adventures

            His life

            His home



            He is asking for It now,
            asking, like someone who has lost a child

            and wishes only,
            in their sorrow

            for a final look,

            parting touch.

            I know, Uncle.

            I know.

            know and

            I lie.

            I lost It,

            Well, that is not so much a lie.
            It is lost.

            As are we.

            I see the long road opening up before us,
            a road from which there is no return.

            And light gathers gentle around us,
            like autumn lying soft upon a harvest field.

            His head rests upon my shoulder.

            No one else might hope to understand his weariness.

            There is no one to understand mine.

            I lean my head to his,
            close my eyes to the swiftly passing world.

            And I dreme,
            at last,

            in the dying of the day.

            I dreme
            upon the Sea.

With deep appreciation to Mechtild for inspiring this poem by the posting of the image above.