the White Stone - Page 172



the White Stone
page 172
THE RACE WITH THE WIND
Meanwhile the Great King just waits. In this great hall there is both joy and sorrow.
His heart will be breaking for all that has been sacrificed in youth. For every one
who makes it back it is a celebration. For every one that falls it is like death.
Set in this great tapestry are the threads of repair,
return native gradually much the worse for wear,
raise one finger to obscurity and let the music play.....
there's one large meal uneaten, before the break of day.
Like a threadbare tapestry life will be renewed with bright and vibrant threads. The
damaged can be repaired. Those who make it back are worn out. Even so we will eat
this feast that is before us and we will let the music lift our celebration. What else can
we do? We honour the fallen and our loss is great. What a terrible sacrifice.
When I first wrote it I read it as Arthurian. The great Grail legend and the story of the
Fisher King. A King with a promise to return at the time of the greatest darkness. Our
once and future King. But now I see it differently. A greater King, Lord Jesus, stands in
for all our lives. We set off in our own way to learn and bring things back for ourselves
and all mankind. We get lost, we forget, but somehow lets hope some of us get back
safely to tell our stories and bring new life to the things that have become cold.

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