What an Elf Is

Have you ever watched a blossom break through a sleeve of frost
On the fragile fingers of a tree
When the last freeze fell on an eager morning

Sat patient to watch the swelling pomme grow
From flower to fruit, without blinking;
Then tasted its sweetness to break your fast

Did you let the seeds fall on fertile earth
And wash the roots with water warm as rain
A tear for a year until fully formed

Sing to the sapling so that it hears, learns
Until it finds a voice of its own
And these melodies teach you

Green greeting spring
White smiles at summer
Red apples bobbing for autumn
And to winter, a harvest of ice

Did you listen as it sang its songs
From the first chord until the last plaintive note, fading
Sap dry and bark peeling and pale

Limbs bowed to the naked ground
While you still remember the sweetness of that first fruit
And smell the pollen on your fingertips

Only an Elf can understand what Time is
Every moment engraved in the memory
Until myth and history are one and the same
So old that the mountains and stars know your name

- Lothithil