Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

An Autumn Day

An Autumn Day
Ella Wheeler Wilcox

“Leaden skies and a lonesome shadow
Where summer has passed with her gorgeous train;
Snow on the mountain, and frost on the meadow–
A white face pressed to the window pane;
A cold mist falling, a bleak wind a calling,
And oh! but life seems vain.

Rain is better than golden weather,
When the heart is dulled with a dumb despair.
Dead leaves lie where they walked together,
The hammock is gone, and the rustic chair.
Let bleak snows cover the whole world over–
It will never again seem fair.

Time laughs lightly at youth’s sad ‘Never,’
Summer shall come again, smiling once more,
High o’er the cold world the sun shines for ever,
Hearts that seemed dead are alive at the core.
Oh, but the pain of it–oh, but the gain of it,
After the shadows pass o’er.”

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October 6, 2013 Posted by | Poems | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Autumn Is Not As It Used To Be

SadAutumn1

“Through all the weary, hot midsummer time,
My heart has struggled with its awful grief.
And I have waited for these autumn days,
Thinking the cooling winds would bring relief.
For I remembered how I loved them once,
When all my life was full of melody.
And I have looked and longed for their return,
Nor thought but they would seem the same, to me.

The fiery summer burned itself away,
And from the hills, the golden autumn time
Looks down and smiles. The fields are tinged with brown —
The birds are talking of another clime.
The forest trees are dyed in gorgeous hues,
And weary ones have sought an earthy tomb.
But still the pain tugs fiercely at my heart —
And still my life is wrapped in awful gloom.

The winds I thought would cool my fevered brow,
Are bleak, and dreary; and they bear no balm.
The sounds I thought would soothe my throbbing brain,
Are grating discords; and they can not calm
This inward tempest. Still it rages on.
My soul is tost upon a troubled sea,
I find no pleasure in the olden joys —
The autumn is not as it used to be.”

– Ella Wheeler Wilcox, “An Autumn Reverie”

September 29, 2013 Posted by | Loneliness, Poems | , , , , , | Leave a comment

Sundry Thoughts for September, Pt. 2

Dear Darling,

Man always wishes to fling off the chains of rule and routine which he finds cumbersome. He never finds it fulfilling.

In the beginning, breaking the bonds of circadian rhythm seemed empowering, to work by night and sleep by day. People shake their heads or comment on how much I’ve worked. But it’s taking a bit of a toll. Here I am again, sleepless at four in the morning, recovering from yet another bout of a cold, unable to sleep, but pondering if I have anything good to say to you, other than more confiding of my innermost thoughts, insecurities and questions. It seems I’ve done a lot of that the last couple of years, and the last thing I want is to leave nothing more than a trail of tears to revisit in our bliss — although perhaps the memory of tears will solidify the lens of happiness through which we peer.

Loneliness makes a poor and distorted looking glass of its own, especially when looking into something as unknown as the future. But I smile to think you’ll be included in it. I’m sure I’ll have some nights I can’t sleep where the screen’s glow and quiet keystrokes will roust you out — if I was so inconsiderate as to remain in bed while you slept.

The sheets are freshly washed, and the room is fairly clean. The laundry is done, the groceries bought, the dishes washed, the kitchen tidied. The air outside smells fresh, and of course it’s finally getting cooler again. I ought to find ways to be happy in all this, but it can be hard. There’s a constant undergirding of stress these days, pressures of school and work. And then when I crawl into this big clean bed and think about what it would be like to have you lying next to me to talk to, to fall asleep with, someone with whom to awaken and face the day together…everything will change once we’re married. There isn’t a single cloud on the horizon that isn’t brightened just a little for having someone with whom to face them.

There’s just something about autumn air. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s nothing like it. It lures and soothes, but it stirs up too. There’s something fleeting and missing about it…something unfinished. Maybe that’s what it is: desire. There’s desire on the wind, and that’s why it leaves you both empty and full.

It’d be nice to have someone that I actually need, and want. I sure want to feel something. I want to feel, and fall and cry. I want to be brokenhearted and elated and passionate. Oftentimes, I’m just too doggone even-keeled and mature, too unflappable. One true observation the Lady Kirche made about me was that I’m comfortable with the epic and uncomfortable with the mundane. I suppose that’s true.

I want to find someone I can be sure about, someone to pursue with reckless abandon, with certainty they’re absolutely what I want. Truthfully, even someone who is worth the pursuit, but unconvinced that I’m worthwhile. Or, as I told a friend earlier, there aren’t many people who have saved up for a tall drink of water with a cache of love letters who gave up a law scholarship and a lucrative job in PR to scoop poop and be an RN. But oh Darling, if I really knew someone was meant for me, if I really felt I couldn’t live without them and I set my sights on them, what a pursuit I could contrive.

I’ve learned that there is nothing quite as potent as someone who understands you and makes you feel good about who you are. I’ve also learned that finding someone like that — especially when you’re complex hard to understand or perhaps even like — is pretty difficult. And here’s the kicker; I’ve learned I’m less that guy that makes a woman feel okay the way she is. Mind, it’s often because I’m not okay with things she’s done or grown to accept, but still, it’s something I need to work on.

I’ll get there, Darling. We’ll both get there. Someday.

Love,
Beren

September 27, 2013 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , | Leave a comment