O that I could write
Upon the mithril plate
A song that would not know
The touch of tarnish.

Nor taste decay,
Though all the worlds
Should thrice pass away,
And lines of men arise
Who must be taught again
To read my writ.

For words live longer than men’s lives or memory
And leap to defy
Those empty untraveled seas
That set the bounds of Ages.

Tie my silver thread in a silken knot to Thee.
Splice my life to the golden cord
That runs behind your ship.
Draw me beyond the waters and the mists,
And the ethers’ airs,
To the Undying Lands beyond the West.

There,
Your land, all Heaven,
In kindness condescends to wait our final copper sunset.

That we,
With you and yours,
Might behold together a new swift sunrise,
That neither sets, nor knows East nor West,
But sits and smiles upon your throne
And us and all,
Forever.

Mithril has passed beyond the western seas
Upon armored elfin breasts,
The first born who found and forged it.

And with them,
Their light and craft and knowledge,
Dreams and dance,
Their supra human persons and abode.

Yet in the airs upon the forest crown,
In the hidden valleys,
Or where the rim of sea meets the mythic shore,
There their dreams still linger.

Dreams and fact,
Proven and weighty beyond doubt.

Is this not good enough for you?
Or do you demand evidence,
Articles displayed upon the procounsul’s marble bench?

Or perhaps a clear plastic bag in the bailiff’s hand
With a single broken strand of elfin hair
And its tale of DNA?

What does your heart tell you,
In the cool of the day,
As you touch and handle the artifacts of Love?

Elliott Tepper 2003