Fancies on Things Historical

In all of my time on this green, lush earth, the historical eras have enamoured me. I cannot say why, but some believing in transmigrations of the soul might say that I have inhabited other bodies on this earth, and feel their mem'ry still. For truly, I do feel most comfortable in times gone by, as much as I quite enjoy some aspects of modernity! Say not that I do not appreciate what I have, for I do, but you may be more right in claiming that though I appreciate, it rings not so truly in my being as do the mystical shadows of the past. 'Twas not all perfect, as it ne'er is anywhere, but then was a character and a charm that I find most alluring. The pull of history, I feel its call often.....to be a simple peasant working the fields all day for the whole of my existence: I would not have minded! For no debt nor mortgage would I have endured, I would have by nature lived simply. I would have missed the knowledge and lore of others, yes, but are such things worth the destruction of my beloved home? Certainly not to me. I would rather that I lived without my modern conveniences, than to see around me the horrendous havoc they wreak on the land.

I so admire these people who lived without what many today would call necessities. What they could not make themselves, or purchase from some skilled artisan, they did not have, and it was good. Perhaps I do not aspire to fully follow in this noble path, but the attempt....ah the attempt will be a tale to tell! Should I need something, I wish to know how to make it. The ingredients? Also, to be able to make or to harvest or produce, would be glorious But that is perhaps only me. Some find the scale different in the end, and judge worth by other means. I do know, though, that always I shall long for the past, and live out that longing in whatever ways I may. Living History? 'Tis not a pasttime, but it descibes my very soul and being! I would dearly love to live again in the time of the Old Gods....for it is with them that I most often find my lot thrown. They speak to me in words of delectation and delight, and of sundered treasures clear for the taking. I have only to leave behind the fetters of modernity, and they will draw me as a leaf carried on some sweet zephyr along the paths of old. I vow to not forsake this random word I hear, but to seek and cherish it. The glimmering spectres of things past burn and writhe within me, and I can only hope that they find me a worthy acolyte and bearer of their profound message. I stand as a damsel transfigured, in the azure spell of antiquity.

A princess I am, standing on the brink of some ancient well-worn outcrop in the shadow of a medieaval castle. Moss and lichen make pillows about me, and I sit, longing to hold my true love once more. He has gone across the sea to meet destiny in the arms of adventure. I know that we are one, and always together,and I see in my mind goassamer visions of us in other guises and lives, always he and I entwining. The sea roars, and sighs dimly, and the winds whip my flowing hair about me. My song of joy, and of a love that transcends time flows freely from my burnished lips, and I know that where ever he may be, my love hears it and is soothed. I see upon the clouds, shimmering in their feather-like down, a chimera of other-worldly splendour. I long to share this vision of love and truth, but I know that it would not be received kindly. Poor mother too often shared her joys and visions, and she was branded a witch, and cast from the kingdom to wander the paths alone and sightless. From the highest to the the lowest she went, all for want of a dream of love and peace.

And now, a priestess, standing with my sisters round a scintallating pool of faeryland. The beings around us are not wholly human, and we sense close, the swirling passion of the others. Do they come to wish us well and to join in our feast and celebrations, or to curse the ghastly visions that we unwittingly hold in our hearts? They hear our voices, sense our song, and cleanse our souls of the soils of a life rent in twain by war and famine. The enemy, though strong and fierce they be, cannot experience the utter sanctity of a simple woodland pool. They know not of the exhultant life that courses through the veins of this land, for if they knew, they would not try to tame it. It is wild and vibrant, it imprint left clearly on all who cherish and seek it. We are granted an oath, a sacred vow that as long as we are true to that life, it shall never depart. Though it may be sundered under years of hate and opression, always it will resurge and triumph, for in the end, truly, love conquers all.

A poor farmers wife on the banks of a creek washes. The water gives us so much, and we are grateful the simple gifts of life. Morning, the water is gathered and brought to the sod home nestled in the banks. We are sheltered from the worst of the winters snow and driving winds, and luxuriate in the warmth under the hills of living and waving grasses. The land provides for us, and we give back to the land in the rich deposits of our animal and plant life, and in our unending gratitude for the chance to exist and to thrive. What we need, we make, and what we cannot, we need not. For the pleasures of a moonlit dance upon the green and the rapture of lying in the arms of ones beloved true love under a mass of ferns, what price is there? In our revelry, we feel the very ground beneath us sing in festal tones. The trees and plants are swarthed in new garments of green and glowing tones of amethyst and ruby. The saffron waves of the wheat for our bread sway on the breath of gods who give us so much. Our saturnalia of ecstasy and bliss suffuses the simple agrarian life we lead with the blossom and blush of the infinite. Sorrows come and go, and somber gloom settles here now and again, but as with all evil, it is soon lost to the joy of creation.

Who can say the true worth of ones fancies and joys? If they find me lost rapturously in dreams of the past, entwined with my eternal true love, who would rouse? My fancies and visions are no less real to me....they exist in other-worlds, and are perhaps lived in the past of this realm or another. The skies of Zion, Middle Earth, Narnia, Earthsea.....do lovers not gaze enraptured at them all? Such universals may find foothold in the hearts of the naive and the innocent, but they should be shared among humanity, as they are among the sweetest and most delectable offerings on the pallet of life.