Friday, August 30, 2013

365 Poems in 365 Days: More Elves. Elfs. Whatelver.

I am the Dawnborn, youngest of the elven Elders
Entering the world on the first disastrous day
When the sun burst upon the heavens.
The stargazers read the sky for clues of the future
But I am the Solomancer and I know the present
Where the sun shines I can see all
And as for tomorrow it ends in fire.

I am the Dawnborn, oldest elf of the new age
Grew up in a world turned crazy
Burnt golden by day, cool silver by night.
I am the Lunamancer and in the monthly cycle
I can read fertility of crops, herds, people.
First to feel the lunatic touch of the moon
The night is no hiding place when we shine in the sky.

I am the Dawnborn, caught between two worlds
Day and night are equally my home, and strangers to me.
I can see all the powers of this age
I am the Auroramancer, standing at the moment
The darkness gives way to the light
My only prophecy is that things change
And dawn having come, soon we give way to evening.

Back to the elf poems. Clearly the Dawnborn is off her nut, and why wouldn't she be. I see the oldest elves being immensely powerful but subtle, and the younger being more flashy but superficial; the Dawnborn is all of those at once. Number 139.

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