The Prologue

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A Bridge,  A Cross,  Eternity

(before The Beginning)

 

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Far ago and long away, in the time before Was, in the land of Because, a tale of two lovers began . . . on the eve of Nocturna, now known as the wedding of Hope and Fulfillment . . . as seen through the eyes of a butterfly called Avalon . . . as told by an iron horse, named Sky . . .

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from the very first moment, living inside what could only be called Everywhere, was God . . . and within God were borne the essences and the attributes of a man, and a woman . . . and the man and the woman, eternally bound as one, were called Ever, and Always . . . and this blessed union of these two hearts and these two souls, became Love . . .

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and one day, while walking the breadth and the depth of their dominion, Ever turns his eyes to Always, and says, I will walk all the days of Infinity to find one rose as lovely as your smile . . . and so, He did, and from that moment on, until every moment since, no one has known where Ever, was . . .

as Always waited at the center of everything She holds dear, Ever wandered across the millennia, following the Light from a now faint and almost forgotten star, searching the heavens for the meaning of life, and finding only the folly of men, wherever He went . . . and along the way, He was met by travelers, solitary messengers from both far and wide, who told Him of a rose that once dwelled in a place called Avalon, and might be found somewhere on a pale blue gem in the dark velvet sky above Him . . . and as He gazed toward it, while slowly turning to face the day, He whispered, the Light of the millennia, cast from a distant fire, roam it will forever, the path of my desire . . .

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for as long as He could remember, His journey had taken Him far across the cosmos, far beyond the Ican Sea, even further than the Reach, and well on past what remains of the Broken Sound, ever spiraling outward, deeper and deeper into the worlds of time and tide . . . and deeper still, into an oblivion that held no memory of who Ever, ever was . . .

as He approached the pale-blue jewel called Urth, nestled in the nocturnal sea of Stars known for its rather milky aspect, at last, having suffered the long dark kiss of Night for what felt like an eternity, while pondering a face He could not quite remember, and the memory a place He cannot seem to forget, Ever moved forward into the waiting arms of Destiny, and finally came to rest upon a page in the tragic history of a brave new world on the threshold of disgrace . . .

and all at once, as He felt a great hush moving slowly across the Universe, as the air around Him vibrated softly, as if the sky were soon to crack from the weight of certainty, He knew that the rose He had walked all Creation to find was here . . . and just when the Dawn gave up Her promise to the Day, He saw, high up on a hill crowned like a human skull, a sight now etched in His heart for ever, a man, nailed to a cross . . . and the man on the cross was the Rose of Avalon . . . and yes, the Rose of Avalon, was His Son . . .

and so, beyond all realms of chance and circumstance, the story about to unfold before your very eyes, to be held for ever in your heart as a terrible beauty, one whose beginning arose as one has come to an end, yet whose story remained veiled in the passages of Time for two thousand years, is rising ever so slowly to the surface . . . appearing as phantoms, as butterflies, having danced across the ages and pages of well-worn tomes and tales given forth to mark the affairs and follies of men, as they searched high and low for the meaning of life, as they searched the heavens for the Truth, when their Truth had been lain asunder by their very own sword, of blind desire . . .

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and alas, the long dark kiss of Night had followed Him, and it poured slowly down over the kingdoms of Urth, down over the fields and forests of what might have been, to the mountains, and the majesty, and the music of men . . .

and as they laid His Son’s body behind that mighty stone, Ever knew, as He stood beneath the heavens, alone, that He had come so far to find all He had missed, and all they, are those, that this rose once kissed . . .

and this one rose, though only here for awhile, had left its mark for eternity, and for all, a smile, and now this one smile He had searched the stars to be near, was found upon the face, of All Things Dear . . .

so He fell to His knees and began to pray, that He might return to Always one day, and as that rose ascended upon angels’ wings, He smiled, and He remembered, of a Voyage, of Kings . . .

and of this story laid before you now, are all that remains of the Glory, and how, a man once called Ever, who Fate dared to roam, put His words on these pages, in a long letter home . . .

and as He remembered who He was and where He had been, He lit a candle, to tell the world, yes, He would find Love, again . . .

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and He wrote and He wrote for the next two thousand years, through our agony and our ecstasy, and the sum of our fears, and He wrote of each moment of each day of our past, through each chapter and each verse, as though they might be our last . . .

so every dream and every wish that Ever had heard since then, could one day fly away beyond these follies of men, and all that remains of His candle so bright, are these very pages, from long-ago ages, of a Kingdom, of Light . . .

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and so it began, and yes, so it was, under a sky to remember, and in the heart of Because . . . and they came from hither, and they came from yon, and they came for no reason, or just to witness the Dawn . . .

and all eyes were there upon Him, and every soul had come so far to see, what Tomorrow knew, and kept from view, all that Yesterday had ever promised to be . . .

while ‘Lo and Behold, their tale to unfold, gazed down upon this weary world of men, a whisper was heard, and this whisper was the Word, and there began the greatest story, that Ever, told . . .

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The Very First Echo

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Once Cast, from a Distant Fire

(Symphonies, of Moments)

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an Angel stands with the grace of a swan, and walks to the edge of a sea of glass, and the quietest hush moves as liquid across all that Her eyes survey, for even the myriad of Heaven’s prayers have waited for an eternity to be answered, and held in the Light of all that shall come of this . . .

and She begins to tell a story, softly and slowly, and in a voice just barely above a whisper, yet capturing the significance of the moment as only thunder ever could, and every hope ever dared or dreamed suddenly came alive at the sound of the words that began . . . from this Day, there shall come a Sound . . .

and on and on She spoke, of All Things Dear, pouring forth over the vast dominions of Remember, and well beyond the infinite reach of Forget, out upon the immense mirror of all that Was, and reflected into the very heart of Always, flowed the echo of all that would one day come to pass . . .

and this echo so began its long journey far across the millennia, as ever it chased the speed of Light, in search of a place so far, far ago and so very long away, in a time when the Light of a candle had once asked God for a reason why, from a small, pale blue gem, way off in a dark velvet sky . . .

and when at last She finished Her story, for it went on and on for days, and all those who had come to hear Her, so went upon their ways, yet they all knew She would come again, and harbored no such fear, for as sure as the Sun moves across the sky, She would return the very next year . . .

for Her name, is Aquarius, and Her number, is January . . .

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as the echo glides through the Universe, it gathers strength from every prayer along the way, for the cloak of darkness will no longer keep it hidden from the heart of All Things Dear, nor hinder it from fulfilling the promise of the return of the Light, of Love, Again . . .

and as the hush of Silence guides its path through the heavens, and the memory of the journey begins to unfold, one by one, the legions of Stars assemble in its wake, to cast their blessing upon the upturned faces, of each and every child, of God . . .

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from The Voyage of KingsBook I,  II,  III,  and A StoryTeller’s Dream

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The Voyage of Kings ~ A StoryTeller's Dream

buy the new Digital and Print Editions on Amazon and Barnes&Noble

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