Post by ib1sly1 on Aug 10, 2020 20:44:02 GMT -7
As you make your way into a damp cellar, your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness. A beam of moonlight penetrates through a hole in the stone foundations shining upon a wooden pole situated in what first appears to be thousands of tiny white figures. As your vision comes into focus, you realize the ground and walls are covered in glowing white mushrooms huddled together almost as if in worship of the pole. Gently your steps find a small pathway, your sight clearing with each step, as the symbol of an oak tree carved into the pole catches your periphery. Tenderly, your finger brushes against the ornate carving and the pole rotates almost effortlessly. You notice letters are carved under the tree and continue around the pole spiraling to its base.
Sylvanus, Forest Father. Praise, blessing and thanks for all of the gifts you have provided this unworthy soul since I first stepped out of the swampy woodlands. For then, I was simply a seed, looking to flourish and grow under your tender care. I still believe to this day, you guided me through the forest to Happydale. Not only did those people need saving, but I believe you knew I too needed saving; for I was beginning to become reckless under the false guidance of the wild witch. You knew, to grow strong, I needed healthy roots firmly planted in fertile soil. I know, what she does not, is that Charity is the soil in which I grow. She not only is kind, and compassionate to me, but is a leader of goodness and hope for all she meets. I love her to no end for “where she goes, I go”
Now your sapling has grown into a strong tree. My roots have grown strong and wide. My truck and limbs thick and rigid for they may bend and sway against the winds of fortitude, but they never break. My leaves thick and green, a canopy of protection and trust so I may provide solace, shelter and comfort to my friends as they battle the elements.
I humbly request, my lord, that you some day allow me to drop my seed into this land, for nothing would make me happier than to have a son to teach your natural glory. To educate him on the natural beauty and healing properties of plants, and the untamed raw spirit of the animal kingdom, and the wondrously spectacular world of mushrooms that binds together both plant and animals in your realm. As I sit here I picture all of these mushrooms as your children, as I am your child. And the pride and love you show us as we are born, live and eventually die. I too, someday, would be praised under your glory if only I had a sapling of my own; for I know Charity would help care and tend to our young oak as she has tended to me.
Under the final letters is carved two oak trees whose branches intertwined as if in a loving embrace, and between them is a smaller sapling that looks to be both nurtured and protected.
Sylvanus, Forest Father. Praise, blessing and thanks for all of the gifts you have provided this unworthy soul since I first stepped out of the swampy woodlands. For then, I was simply a seed, looking to flourish and grow under your tender care. I still believe to this day, you guided me through the forest to Happydale. Not only did those people need saving, but I believe you knew I too needed saving; for I was beginning to become reckless under the false guidance of the wild witch. You knew, to grow strong, I needed healthy roots firmly planted in fertile soil. I know, what she does not, is that Charity is the soil in which I grow. She not only is kind, and compassionate to me, but is a leader of goodness and hope for all she meets. I love her to no end for “where she goes, I go”
Now your sapling has grown into a strong tree. My roots have grown strong and wide. My truck and limbs thick and rigid for they may bend and sway against the winds of fortitude, but they never break. My leaves thick and green, a canopy of protection and trust so I may provide solace, shelter and comfort to my friends as they battle the elements.
I humbly request, my lord, that you some day allow me to drop my seed into this land, for nothing would make me happier than to have a son to teach your natural glory. To educate him on the natural beauty and healing properties of plants, and the untamed raw spirit of the animal kingdom, and the wondrously spectacular world of mushrooms that binds together both plant and animals in your realm. As I sit here I picture all of these mushrooms as your children, as I am your child. And the pride and love you show us as we are born, live and eventually die. I too, someday, would be praised under your glory if only I had a sapling of my own; for I know Charity would help care and tend to our young oak as she has tended to me.
Under the final letters is carved two oak trees whose branches intertwined as if in a loving embrace, and between them is a smaller sapling that looks to be both nurtured and protected.
