June

Issue 45

"My place," I beg the Sea, "let it be known. For the dark dragon has his morbid cave, The princess has her shining, golden throne, The mermaid has her stormy, salt-kissed wave. Yet is there no place to be found for me?" "World's Sphere!" shrieks the Sea in furious hate, "For though it will plot your life with much glee Do not permit the world to chart your fate." "My place," I beg the Trees, "grant it be shown. The elf has his forest, the dwarf his mine, The maid a love when she is fully grown. But where for me does any love light shine?" "Heart's Sphere," whisper the Trees in contentment, Yet with wistful longing that seems to say, "Though in happiness such a life is spent, There lies somewhere a deeper, brighter way." "My place," I beg the Stars, "help me find mine. A lore-filled harp has the wise singing bard, The pale winds the fair nymphs they do enshrine. Peace, mystery, is there for me no shard?" "Soul's Sphere!" laugh the Stars in shining delight. As in beauty crescendos their wild song, I know I have come into my birthright, And that peace cannot escape me for long.