RWTLbf1

I have not always run this Inn, In times a-passed, I was much

more thin!

In these works I shall recount

my tale,

On pages extant, lest my

memory fail. . .

Once during every thousand

years,

Throughout the shards, across

the spheres,

The planets into alignment

fall.

Through unseen barriers, laws

do stall;

Upon each shard - a sacred

Wood.

The realities bend, and 'twixt

them could

A faithful spirit through them

travel,

Into neighbouring worlds; and

space unravel.

My tale is of one time

now passed,

When the Blessed Grove of each

world touched last;

Priests of Nature, from every

sphere,

For a brief time, met without

slightest fear.

Strangers all, they came as

one,

To praise their Gods, and tell

of victories won. . .

A throng of Nature's priests

did meet,

In that Sacred Grove, and each

other greet.

As if they had known one

another forever,

Perhaps kindred spirits, apart

but never

Separate - united by their

art,

Each a single facet of

Nature's part.

After feasting, and much

merriment,

There came a silence,

exuberance all spent.

Twas the ritual Sacrifice's

time,

And the purpose of this humble

rhyme.

Heed these words, for should

ye follow

In their wake, and not in

tawdriness wallow,

Thou shalt perhaps catch eye

of higher powers,

Whom look down upon our mortal

hours,

And in sacrificing, as did we

that night,

Blessings to ye, impart they

might.

About ye thy sharpest wits do

keep!

Til Sacrifice is made,

restless be thy sleep!

For now, ensure to pay closest

heed,

For upon these pages, the

secret ye shall read,

As to the Sacrifice's

construction,

And so, to work ye go, after

some deduction.

Keep handy ye store of

scholarly wits,

For in tongues quite foreign

are these writs,

So from the Heathen to

safe-guard,

The hidden knowledge - by

study hard,

Thou shalt the Naturewalker's

Tale unfold,

And to the eventual Sacrifice,

travel bold.