of Kingdoms, Come
( and Gone )
A small piece, by
most standards, pummeled, and polished, by
countless hands, just a bit of gold that had witnessed the light of
a billion stars in a myriad of skies, since its first purpose, acquired a pair of
shoes for a carpenter, who plied his craft on boats down by the river . . . odd indeed,
the notion of a poor tradesman falling under fortune’s favor, by possessing even one in a
lifetime, for its faces were accustomed to nobler cuts of pocket or purse, lined with a finer
cloth or the rarest hide . . . stranger still was the voyage of this coin of a realm, once cast to
honor the folly of men, and an empire now two millennia dead . . . by land and sea, across
times and continents, marking a journey of simple and stunning complexity, a coin, all
battered and worn, yet with a hidden splendor, waiting just below the surface, lies
shining, in a morning sun . . . until one day, a woman, guided by the grace of
God, walking along a path of friendship, beholds a reflection, and
lowers her hand to touch the rose, emblazoned for
Ever, upon her heart . . .
from Book I, The Ring ( First Light ) The Sixth DoveTale – The Grace of Swans
