Tolkienheaded in Darjeeling...

Mithrandiri (Tolkienesque)


Astride wind-chariots thundering west,
downward bound, the clouds did sail!
They sought for me – was this in jest?
But they bade me ride that hallowed gale!

I tarried not – I sallied forth
with humbled head and awestruck eye.
My feet made paths where there were naught
and all about me did they fly

Ever onward did the grey host speed
consuming every plunging dale.
The rumour of their formless steed 
was heard in every mountain’s wail.

For I was in the wondrous lands 
of thunderbolt as they were called – 
wrought of old by mighty hands;
with living rock and greenwood walled.

And ever onward was I led
agape, astonished, overwhelmed,
afraid my foot might cruelly tread
this land with myriad beauty helmed

And lest my tiring, faltering stare
should fail – Oh benevolence!
Each several thing of beauty there
Then melted into consonance

With humbled head and awestruck eye
I followed a forgotten trail
and then ere long it brought me nigh
the entrance to a hidden dale.

Where birds sang, many, sweet and fair
I hearkened to their beckoning song
and ventured forth into their lair,
when, after climbing hard and long,

I came upon a mighty stair
fashioned with naught but living earth
and velvet grass and flowers rare – 
each step was of enormous girth.

And as each step I left behind,
the splendour that my eyes beheld
was as bright light to the dark-worn blind;
my thirst for lore-sung grace was quelled.

The rangers grey did condescend
that day – they bowed and made me soar
that this glimpse might make me comprehend
the grace of distant Valinor.



Darjeeling, Summer '06