A touch of Loycha

My musing on lost Lemuria,
entranced by recent posts
remind me of the legend
of Loycha --
the perfect place
where all desires can be met ...
but you can only go alone,
and must leave everything behind.

Perhaps there is in Lemuria
a touch of Loycha's gift and curse.

So -- for protection there is a guardian.
.......................................................

Song of Loycha

It was not a time of sorcery or magic but the song was part of a spell that ran icy fingers over the woven mail mantle that protected their silent souls.

"Come home, home," called the voice from the moon lit dew.

The hour was early, too early for most, who wrapped themselves in the ephemeral protection of a few last moments of huddled dark snuggliness before the dawn. So many did not hear with blankets of fear and pillows of doubt drawn up about their shivering thoughts.

"Find peace, peace," sang the delicate petals yearning to the first rays of God shine.

The hour is cold, too cold, for shadow people suffering from ignorance that their quest's passion should give fire greater than that of the surface of the sun. Singly they curse the numbing frost and pray for the waking sun to hurry in its course. A wasted prayer, for that plan had been set eons ago. Not a single prayer for the courage to share warmth with another. So I, Benu, have come!

"Look here, here," sings the endless ripples in the pond.

The pace is fast, too fast for any last minute practice at the post. Again and again the sharp edges of avarice and sin and pride will deflect the spinning arrows of practiced hope. You all stood in honored vigil, yet defiled the simple black and white and scarlet, with plumes of rainbow hues and maiden favor. Fools! Perfection can come only from the smooth stroking and reflection of the spirit as part of the greater will. Rushing only fractures the stone and produces new edges.

"Sing this song, sing,” whisper the tears in my eyes and the caressing mist of the fern against my cheek.

I did not choose this course, but must heed your arrogant challenge! You, one and all will not pass forward as a knight proclaimed except passed on or over me. Choose your weapon and size of shield. Wear armor firm or light, or none at all. These I will match and therein drive your down-covered face into the dust. Now up - arise! Your vigil is done. Ride forth to gather up your dreams and the fruits of long squire-hood. Except …

Here stand I, Benu of Loycha, to challenge this right. Call not your friends - they cannot hear. Do not turn away in fear - there is nothing but darkness behind you. See in me the light - the doorway to eternity. I come from a land where there is no pain, where an herb grows for every ill and the faire wind ever blows. But in Loycha can there reside but one, and my love sits there in peace. When I return she must drift away leaving only Sping's perfume. So I have no fear of death, my friend. I would rather you dash my blood upon these rocks than send me back to that! Lay on!

"Listen for the song, feel,” - will soft whisper the approaching dawn.

In fairness I should tell you, brave knight of morning's birth, that should you win this battle then part of Loycha will bond unto your heart. When I win this day, do be warned, the prize I will claim is your innocence and youth.


faucon