Written By Sparte
June 19, 2019, 12:59 p.m.(4/24/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Elisha
A man both fisherman and farmer, taker and maker of life, plants his garden. In the hole he digs, a single fish is dropped. "The fish that was will nurture the plant that will be. In that the fish will become the plant, but the plant will never be the fish." He contemplates this as he takes a bite of an apple from his garden.
A blind artist paints a work of art. Her brush touches the canvas and reveals sights only she had seen, but others are blind to the beauty.
Five brothers sit at a round table. One speaks up. "We must agree that I sit at the head of the table, or else we will have no table at all." The other brothers as one rise and leave.
Seven birds above sing a song for seven cats to hear. One cat chitters and spits, "Come closer birds, come here. My song waits on pointed claws, sung through sharpened teeth. My song a wave of hypnotic tail and of a merry feast." The seven birds come and leave behind six cats who knew to flee.
Upon the skin a tapestry, upon the tapestry a tale, upon the tale a single man who stood when none prevailed. That single man saw victories at cost too great to tell, so on his skin a tapestry, upon that his tale.
A blind artist paints a work of art. Her brush touches the canvas and reveals sights only she had seen, but others are blind to the beauty.
Five brothers sit at a round table. One speaks up. "We must agree that I sit at the head of the table, or else we will have no table at all." The other brothers as one rise and leave.
Seven birds above sing a song for seven cats to hear. One cat chitters and spits, "Come closer birds, come here. My song waits on pointed claws, sung through sharpened teeth. My song a wave of hypnotic tail and of a merry feast." The seven birds come and leave behind six cats who knew to flee.
Upon the skin a tapestry, upon the tapestry a tale, upon the tale a single man who stood when none prevailed. That single man saw victories at cost too great to tell, so on his skin a tapestry, upon that his tale.
Written By Celeste
June 12, 2019, 11:46 a.m.(4/9/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Elisha
An ageless woman weaves a massive tapestry, the warp and weft of too complicated for any to understand, the size so grand no one can see more than a few sections at a time. Each thread, delicate in its placement, woven from a new color, each a shade no word exists to describe. The dark strands are stark, their backdrop making the bright shades blossom like new suns.
Gentle shears cut a thread, ending its run through the grand image.
Years later the Weaver picks up her needle and begins a new line on the tapestry, this never-ending work. The color is similar to one used before, but the image drawn with it is new.
Somewhere else a man sweeps dust into his hand and a cosmos is found glittering in it. He dreams... He glimpses fragments of a whole...
He wakes with hardly the knowledge of how to describe what he saw.
Gentle shears cut a thread, ending its run through the grand image.
Years later the Weaver picks up her needle and begins a new line on the tapestry, this never-ending work. The color is similar to one used before, but the image drawn with it is new.
Somewhere else a man sweeps dust into his hand and a cosmos is found glittering in it. He dreams... He glimpses fragments of a whole...
He wakes with hardly the knowledge of how to describe what he saw.
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