Standing here at the edge of time you are dry-eyed,
my dear, brave friend.
I do not wonder at this.
You have already cried so long,
the great well of your sorrow has worn you out.
This day the others will weep your tears
as soon as they understand.
For you have not told them, have you?
They do not know
that the day of your rebirth has come.
I pause to look upon those who must remain
where they hover on the brink of heartbreak.
My hand stretches forth.
The knowledge of imminent pain softens my voice.
“It is time, Frodo.”