How I long to rest in Lothlorien,
Under gold, blue, white and cream.
By the streams that run to Anduin,
In the magic land, to dream…
How I long to bathe in the Nimrodel,
Her song heal my weary heart.
Calling it to surrender;
Her soothing sweetness play its part.
How I long to lie on soft, cushioned grass
Or high in the boughs, so strong,
Of the tallest, ancient mallorn-trees
Where time forgoes its reach, ere long.
How I long to spy the pale gold of their leaves,
The silk grey touch of their bark,
And watch in the spring when their green returns,
And yellow-flowered boughs make their mark.
How I long to lie on the evergreen grass of the mound
Cerin Amroth, where such flowers do adorn:
The gold yellow-star shapes of Elanor
Sweet pale Niphredil, growing on sacred lawn.
How I long to feel the peace of this light-filled haven
Where everything feels so heightened, alive,
Colours softer, brighter, clear fragrant air.
Where there is no choice but to sing and thrive.
How I long to talk with the Elves of Lorien,
The Galadhrim, tree people as called,
That live in this land, of starlight and sun,
Where such goodness is all that is called.
How I long to meet Galadriel and Celebron, Lady and Lord
In Caras Galadhorn, dressed all in white.
He of long silver hair, wisdom and strength.
She of gold locks and heart, holding deep, truthful insights.
How I long to see their dwelling set high in the trees,
Where lamps twinkle soft on my face,
And a fountain leads to a basin of silver,
Overflowing a white stream of such grace.
How I long, or dare, to sit under Galadriel’s gaze
That reveals what is true and hidden,
Reaching deep within to see desires
Of love, but also that which is forbidden.
How I long to be stripped bare of all of my masks,
For her direct look to pierce my heart,
See into my soul, deep understanding,
Pull out my darkness, every laden part.
How I long to lie in the arms of this place,
Heal my brokenness and start anew,
To taste the beauty of deep rest;
Let love and truth cut through.
How I long for a land such as Lorien, I sigh,
A taste of heaven, a place just like this,
Where beauty, kindness, kindred and light
Take a soul to deep joy, peace and much bliss.
But, then I hear a whisper, “It’s yours, dear one,
If you fully choose God’s Way of Love:
Your soul could create its own sweet
Lothlorien, in the real heavens above.
So long for the courage, humbleness of Frodo and Sam,
Of Gandalf, his quest of truth to discover,
Of Aragorn, his desire for One true love.
So with all this your whole soul can recover.”
“And long more for your parent, your God
Have faith in Her great, compassionate Love
That wants to give you Lothlorien, and more,
Jewels in your heart, on the wings of a dove.
So long to rest in a land like lovely Lothlorien,
And dream of it you will
But continue the quest, to follow the path:
God’s Way, that can make it real.”
So to long for rest, beauty, peace, love and joy
But not in the ways I have done before.
This quest means surrendering my armour,
All ways, with myself and God, I go to war.
Frodo walked in the shadowlands, very afraid,
Refused to bend to evil, no matter what;
To suffer discomfort until his quest was done.
Kept his heart open, loving – not shut.
When the quest was over, he was more pure of heart,
And could finally take his deeply-earned rest
In a place of peace, love and much beauty
To the Havens, then far to the magical West.
So I longed for lovely Lothlorien
God heard my heart call,
Answered, “Remember, quest first,
Then you can have it – all.”
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