To make up for yesterday’s late post, how about a super early one today? And triggered by the prompt given by NaPoWriMo! Woot! What’s not to like about a sorrow thusly:
The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
ringlorn
adj. the wish that the modern world felt as epic as the one depicted in old stories and folktales—a place of tragedy and transcendence, of oaths and omens and fates, where everyday life felt like a quest for glory, a mythic bond with an ancient past, or a battle for survival against a clear enemy, rather than an open-ended parlor game where all the rules are made up and the points don’t matter.
Well, it had to happen like this (even if in extended-haiku form):
Where are my dragons?
Where is my brooding chieftain?
Where my ancient song?
Is this journeying
the map of forever times
before the namings?
Before the hours known
when time arched but endlessly
when days were but one
let me quench my thirst
for the momentary joys
and peace of nightfall
let me drink in lust
like the rage of long battle
let me smooth your brow
in the stillest night
you won’t hear my quiet prayer
for your safe keeping
but know that I pray
and watch for you on the road
holding tight that joy
The night full of prayer
The raging of dragons long
The happiness of return
