The House of Tablets and its mistress.
Heyheyhey, @sisterofiris has a birthday today, and that deserves a ni~ce celebration. Because she’s amazing.
I am so lucky to know you, dearest lady scribe. Keep rocking, and thank you for everything. I hope the world gives you plenty of warmth, sweetness and colour in return for all the good you do. May the roads you travel be as kind as you are.
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The Elder Sister walks through the House of Tablets, She teaches the hand that trembles to carve its own course Steadily and with purpose: back straight, eyes alight. And the too impetuous learn patience: - Hey, Ikaros, don't let your wings burn! How can a touch so light leave a mark so deep? She knows so much and yet hunts for more Always. Elusive wisdom leads her on a merry chase Through worlds, times, tales - strange and familiar. Follow her, but try to not get lost - After all, this place has so many doors: One smells of the ocean, all salt and wild winds, Another - a place built of clay, question marks and memory. Tall mountain peaks gleam behind the next threshold, Or a forest of cedars and pines where untameable things dance. There is a passage to a place of temples and pure springs, And one to a city pretending it has no past. Or - a door to a hall where warriors feast with shepherds, Where kings listen to scholars, and men to women, And someone is always trying to sell bad copper. They all have stories to tell; listen, while you stride through, To words harsh, soft, melancholy and joyful. Let the scribe speak the names right, awaken them for a while, And, once the journey is done... but how can that happen? There are always more doors, the dim lamp can be lit again, And the keys are heavy, but safe in her hands. May her dreams be light - for even a sorceress Needs protection sometimes. Let her not go without it: A cloak in a storm, reasons to laugh and sing, Cinnamon, honey and bright, warm colours, Hair braided with flowers, understanding, shared (in)sanity In the vastness of time and space that seem so indifferent, But if that is true - living hearts reflect entropy And engrave "beauty" and "meaning" where there should be none. Big sis has enough love for a million miracles - moon, sun and lightning; We call it magic. She just knows which locks to keep open.