Disclaimer: "The Lord of the Rings" and all related items belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. This is merely an excursion into Middle Earth as it transitions from a land of hobbits and elves to the domain of man.
The Dark Forest – Part I
Amazement, oh, ye gods, that you have brought me to this place.
I could not but begin to imagine where I might be when my eyes were uncovered -- and I am traipsing into the woods of belief that I was right...
And yet I cannot be. Why, for the sake of all thy presence, would he be here? I ask now, gods, and you shall answer me.
This garden, this forest of delight and beauty and melancholy joy - the grass, lush and darkened by tears, wraps damply around my ankles, rooting me to the ground; the flowered vines with their yellow buds tangle about my shoulders and coil themselves in my hair. From my lips comes forth a white mist -- so fair and so fine that it instantly dissolves into a thousand droplets on my cloak.
It is early morning, is it not? Still he stands there, alone and apart from such a forest, his eyes tracing a path on the wet ground. How is it, gods, that he can stand so quiet and stone-like, and not share this immense binding with nature?
I move my hand slightly and the vines whisk around me more tightly than before. He does not notice, however; he does not stir at the mild sound. It seems to me that the forest is growing; is feeling-- in front of me the black oaks gather, pulling together in a tense, breathless dance. Their branches struggle to block my view, and with my last effort, I push forward.
The vines erupt into burning ropes of thorns and my flesh tears. I heed it not. The flower petals caught in my hair freeze my very blood; I want nothing more than to stop, to turn back; or to nestle in the clinging grass and sleep. And then the oaks step towards me, their canopies swinging ominously. I close my eyes. I am to be trampled.
And then, sunlight. I open my eyes. Nay, not sunlight -- oh, gods! Why have you brought me here -- it is the reflected light of a golden magic that smoothly enrobes his head. Now he has heard me; now he has seen me; and I am faced with the brilliantly blue orbs crowned by that golden glory.
He opens his mouth to speak, and I shut my ears. My despair is greater than ever -- and as he reaches out with one hand, I shudder, and throw myself back into the comfort of those blackened oaks.