To Catch A Moment (From the notebooks of M-)
If I have read the cards incorrectly, speak!
If I have uttered one false word, speak!
The hours cannot deliver that which the heart has not conceived.
I have led you to clear waters -- see the white crests!
I have led you to clear waters -- hear them rush!
But fear charge of the hours beating swords upon wild horses.
My friend, they lay waste to all -- the hours --
The noblest as the liar as the thief falls.
Speak now or forever hold!
(Midnight, the beachhead at the Stone Siren, Aglarond -- Stars have mercy! I wish Riad had slit the coward’s throats. Dawn lit our sails like beacons before the exchange was made. We could have lost it all for one man’s hesitancy.)
The day when she did not cry anymore,
I learned not all silence sounds the same.
Imagine a ghostly voice speaks your name once then no more
-- the particular silence of a rule cast upon the heap.
Our heads turned -- the nurse’s, my own --
And the young lady looked with iron pits for eyes
As I was bent across the familiar knee in her place. With one look
The color turned, the commonplace became ridiculous.
We turned on that look too -- we could have laughed!
The theater of it! This virginal author’s conception
Of a womankind whose looks are equal measures. I
Could take her place upon a knee no more than I could turn her world.
She could no more wear my pain in her heart than she had
Experience to wield the bruises bodily herself.
The day when she did not cry anymore
Was the first of many silences.
(A stolen life, Alaor, Thay - Funny how these memories surface and sink beneath the waves. But the lessons remain, intentional and otherwise. In my heart, I perceive my torture as the avenue of an education my unknown parents could never have afforded if they could even afford our freedom.)
Give me your shirt, and I will mend
-- For any price I name, gold or gestures or smiles.
But tear the shirt from my quick hands,
And we have no purpose here.
Name a need, and I will fulfill.
We are each bred with ours nature,
And mine do not mistake power for wisdom
Nor gold for time well-spent.
(A foul inn, Skuld, Mulhorand - What is the sense in hiring me if I’m not to be trusted or used at all, I ask? Riad laughs, but I would rather be busy than paid. Sitting still, being ignored -- it makes me feel like an object. If I cannot have partnership and honesty, I will find my employment elsewhere.)
“Do not call it indiscreet.”
“Do you hear that cracking?
The heavens break with my heart.
If it was love, there is no discretion
For my heart borders the known world.”
“A man makes mistakes.”
“Then his hours are wasted.”
(A stolen year, Skuld, Mulhorand - Surely none has ever deserved the cruelty of love. No, not even Riad. I was a fool to surrender so much of myself, of my time, to a rake. I was a fool to think he’d change. Ah. Onward. To better things.)
The delicate fingers interlace
To shelter elegant rage between them.
Guard your stars, restless child, but
Remember what light is for.
A mystery cannot be whipped for its answers --
In an azure peace, the snow falls,
Innocent of its forgotten ancestry.
A name could be many things, but least of them a knot
-- least necessary is a tie to that night country of the past.
Though the fingers thread the silver
Dream, restless one, dream to weave a name that shines!
(Lighthouse, Peltarch, Icelace - To new beginnings, you foolish girl. No, to the only thing there is: beginning. You have no past to call your own. Be free. Claim your time.)