In the Old Cigar Box

dude,

as I traveled this maze around your woods, I had to marvel at the quality of the...ehm.. well, whatever the heck you pack in your pipe. This is a different land you live in my friend.

- a wandering man

Be it the thick smoke
or the thin air,
yes.
Vive le difference!
__________

myrddin,

Your wistful desires... is your woods your means of escape? I sense a deep thoughtfullness tempered by loneliness? Perhaps a spiritual hole? While the view of your woods, your home, your stream are grand in creation, such a lush environment must be fed by much rain. Is it the rain sent by He who has no name, or is it simply tears of wandering man?

I hope to visit you again. to find you, by just wandering past, I have noticed the passion by which you created your home. I will watch for smoke from you chimney before my next visit. No smoke, I will pass by, if there is water on to which we may share a cup, I would enjoy a visit on your porch. May you rest easy and be Blessed in all

- Arbi

Arbi –

You did not come

to 'step between'

myself and 'my fighting soul'?

or to write
a second Satirycon?

If not,

then welcome,

friend,

to Ithilien.

And consider:Is there not an escape TO reality?
Might such sehnsucht as mine (thoughtful loneliness as desire) indicate not emptiness but a fullness unsatisfied?

And might the tears of wandering man not BE the tears sent by He who has no name?My 'porch', such as it is, will welcome your presence.

__________
Dear Myddin -

Glad to have found you not at home. It gives me the opportunity to leave this note. A better introduction in this case, I hope.

Sorry to have startled you last night at the window. Must have been a shock. I saw your little cottage and was curious.

You sleep very peacefully.

But you startled me as well. So by the time you came out, I had already made the mistake of climbing that oak by your cottage. The one with the birdhouse. Don't know what I was thinking, because if you would have just looked up I would have been trapped.

I decided to keep quiet and wait till you went back inside before I climbed down and continued on my way, but then you just sat down on the porch and started talking to yourself! (Don't worry I couldn't hear what you were saying.)

When you finally went in and shut the door, I climbed out of the tree and headed downstream in the direction I had been walking. A beautiful evening by the light of the stars. Didn't you think?
Must have been well after midnight when I saw a light and found the little monastery. The monks gave me lodging even at such a late hour, but I might also have slept in the garden.

I want you to know that you intrigued me, especially your willingness to talk to yourself like that. But I couldn't come down from the tree. Couldn't tell if you were entirely safe. But the monks gave me your name and with it many kind words.

Yesterday morning, when I walked into the valley, I thought I was just passing through - but even then I couldn't remember where I was coming from and I had no idea where I was going.

Seem to have lost my way at the right moment.

With your permission, I would like to stay a while in your valley, perhaps further upstream? See you soon?

-Camilla

If your spirit

is fleeing still

Aeneas,

Maiden Warrior,

welcome to my valley.

__________

I heard some thumping out in back when I came up but I didn't want to bother you in the midst of your work but I had to communicate with you somehow. I was strolling around the wall this morning and I was thinking about the poetry workshop tommorow.

I don't know that I'm good at it or even getting any better. But I like it a lot and I thought I'd like to come up and tell you myself. I've lost the nerve though.I'm dont know how to tell what I feel. I want to tell people what it's like to be me, not just a brother in a monastery but what it's like to see with MY eyes and taste with MY tongue and smell with MY ears. But I dont know what I'm missing. Maybe we can talk tomorrow.

Thanks for your coming to be with us now and then. We really enjoy your roguishness for it's freshness to our way of life and we enjoy your skill because you teach us so well.
With gratitude,

Br. Damien

Brother -

The thanks should flow rather down the valley than up. You all have done much for me.
Were it not for your establishment, not only would I have left long ago but I may never have stopped to begin with.

Let's talk soon.
__________
Nice place you have here. I think I'll stop by from time to time. - Wes

Whoe’er has travell’d life’s dull round,

Where’er his stages may have been,

May sigh to think he still has found

The warmest welcome at an inn.

__________

Count me in as a new frequent visitor. - Spencer

__________

I was on my home the other day from a land a little East of Ithilien in a small plane flying about 1,000 feet above the swaying tree tops and noticed the smoke from your cabin chimney. I would have stopped but the runway options appeared a little narrow and short. I did give the usual wingtip wave as I flew by. Maybe another time. - U Dan

I was wondering who that was! I wasn't even certain you still flew. Thank you.
__________

What I'd like to know is if, when you are visiting the monks at St. Godric's, you ever go to confession?

It's an interesting idea, but I prefer not to dishonor their sense of sacrament simply through curiosity, or from more broadly humane interest.

__________
Sir, i stumbled into the woods near your little house today. I have been a bit lost lately, i must admit, but it is the very fault of that bugger at the last inn who told me to go right at the fork in the road a ways back. All of my forks have 3 prongs at least, and so had this one, and neither of them looked quite right, if you know what I mean. Anyway, i stumbled into your woods and promptly damned them as i tripped over a very inconspicuous log. have you ever fallen onto twigs and prickles and hard cold ground? It sounds a bit pansy I admit, but it hurts like the devil, especially when the little plants' branches snag you face and beard. And i dropped some of my notes as well! Damn them i said and say again! Ahem,Pardon. Now after I had damned your woods, i had a bit of a look around. (After all, it is only after damning a thing that you can start to feel very cozy with it). It is not a bad place I admit. Quite a nice bit of musical, whistling breeze. Perhaps a bit solemn, but overall not a bad tune. i gather that the smaller breezes are not quite serious, but infact mock the elder winds a mite. Overall, i caught a few snatches worth recording in my notes (what was left of them, at least - Da.. ahem). i came upon this little cottage here. You must be gone somewhere. I heard once that the folks in these parts are all a bit serious minded, so perhaps you're off reading books. Books, hmm, well I feel they're a bit too verbose for me sometimes, if you know what I mean. My ear is particular sensitive, but my eyes are just a bit fuzzy at times. And besides i'm a bit of a prosaic fellow, and i gather from the winds and the woods that this place is a bit keen on the poesies. Limericks are more my line. Did you here the one about Mrs. Flanagan? Er, Ahem, well, perhaps that's for another day. Anyway, i sat on your stoop or perhaps your step (you don't happen to have a sandwich or some biscuits lying around here do you?... hmm, can't quite make out - perhaps you need to wash your windows and move that little table there - a body can't see a thing through these windows)and i was joined by a fat, nosy sparrow. i know it was a sparrow as those blighters are everywhere i go, and they will always join you for lunch whether they're asked or not. Haha, tough luck for this bugger, for he won't get food off of me, for i drank, er ate my last meal at the inn, and haven't got a scrap on me. Lord, i wish i had some pipe tobacco handy, or even just a scanty pint of beer. Hmm, or a sausage.... well, you sure like that reading plenty don't you! Hmmph, I figure I'll wander around some more and see if i can find those monks i heard about. The religious are usually pretty free with the comestibles. God keep the blighters. Ah, and what time do you usually have dinner?... just wondering...
-Mr. P

Dear Mr. P --

Thank you for dropping by. I'm sorry that I was not in.

Anyone who can teach me the word 'comestibles' is welcome to wander the woods whenever he likes.

PS -- I'm afraid the comestibles are usually a little thin around the cottage. (The lack of refrigeration in the summer is a challenge.) But you're welcome to whatever you find. The door is never locked.

Speak friend and enter.
__________
Thanks for the stogie and the sunset last night. As we sat in the growing shadows I felt that if I could just stop breathing I would see the faere emerge from among the wisps of smoke lingering on the moss and tree roots. It's enough to get one through the chaos of the week. Maybe we could go fishing next weekend?

-Jonah

Jonah,

Though you'll have to find someone else to thank for the sunset, you're welcome for the cigar and it was a pleasure to share the evening with you. Though, as you know, I prefer a pipe of the finest myself, I am not immune to the allure of the cigar and like to keep several on hand for visitors or the occassional diversion.

As for fishing ... Hmmm ... I'm available ... just about any morning this week ... and ... every evening now that you mention it. Except Thursday. Thursday I'm due at St. Godric's for the second poetry workshop.

__________
Sir, I must say I was quite disappointed to find you not at home this afternoon; visiting you was perhaps the main reason I came to the valley. I was told of you by a mutual acquaintance, and decided to take a break from the multitudinous barrages of the American entertainment industry to visit your little valley. I am staying over at St. Godric's, although so far I have found it to serve only as a place to sleep, for I find myself constantly drawn to the agrarian wonders and simple complexities of the valley. At any rate, I will be here until Saturday, and I will check back again tommorrow; perhaps we can enjoy a smoke together. -Cyrus

To Cyrus, greetings.
Grace and Peace to you.

Under the cherry blossoms
None
Are utter strangers.

- Issa - ­­­

__________
Perhaps what stirred our souls so much as we dug yesterday was the fact that we are amateurs in the true sense. (Of course the notion of a Grotten Brown from the cellar after an evening of fishing didn't hurt a bit, either.)

-Jonah

Tell me you did not take my Grotten Brown. I hope you mean the St. Godric's Ale that we drank together.

__________
Sir, An acquaintance, David Z., told me I could find you somewhere in this valley, and I am glad I managed to stop by. While I have found I have not the stamina for the life of a Seeker, it is definitely worth stopping by from time to time to learn from those Seekers that we are acquainted with. You will probably not hear from me too much here, but rest assured that I am observing and gleaning some insight from your life in Ithilien. Thanks for sharing your insights with us.

-Daniel

Seekers
do not need stamina
but soul

__________

Sucking on a skinned almond I tasteits slick ridges, the point addresses the tip of my tongue with yielding persistence. Between molars, split in two, I lap at its smooth interior planes. Even before I clench around it's silky flesh I can feel the sticky mach imbedded in my bicuspids. It is sour. It is untamed and therefore not bred for ingestion. It is laced throughout with arsenic, a natural component of the undomesticated almond. Never mind my house burning across the seat. Taste the bitter on the back of the tongue, almost in the throat. Swallow the urge to heave out the poison. Stretch out my hands to warm them in the glow of red and yellow. Lie back in the snow, smell the cold, hear the stars prick my eardrums. Brother Damien

__________

I wandered and I wandered.I pondered and I pondered.Alas, to long I've waited, a dream passed by me squandered. I stumbled through your woods, tattered worn and uninvited. Admiring the wonderous beauty my heart and soul delighted.

G4st

__________

Almost forgot. Left an AleSmith Speedway Stout around back. Enjoy!
B.D.
__________
Here's a little summer something:

I Scream!
Crunchysticky sweet,t,t
Circled fingers in that megaphone shape
The corrugated cake cone
The smooth silk soft serve
Chinlick by lipbite shaping cream to peak
-ed mountain
The inside ribs poke at the gums
Cold freezes teeth to their roots
Throat and stomach spread
The coolwarmth out to tacky fingers
Flipflop toes

Brother Damien
p.s. I beg forgiveness for my absence on Sat. I forgot about the pre-summer chores that needed doing around the monastery. The borthers all pitched in and it is now a respectable sight. Visit soon? B.D.
__________

Friend,
Thank you so much for your participation in our cermonies for Brother Oswald. He was dear brother and will be dearly missed.
I have recently been offered and have accepted new duties working outside the monastery. I have been asked to help some nearby members of the valley learn to live well in their surroundings and begin to garner some of the benefits afforded us by our surroundings. This is taking up much of my time and, though I sorely miss them and will diligently seek to continue them, I must decrease the frequency of my visits. I earnestly hoped to find you here but I see a rod or two missing from your collection and assume you have gone to lasso some river cattle. May He continue to bless you as I do,
Brother Damien
p.s. I am working on a new poem. perhaps we can discuss it this weekend? I promise to curtail my forgetful habits at least long enough to meet with you.
p.p.s. I watched Wim Wender's Wings in the middle of the week and I set a fierce, warm light burning in and around me. Thank you.
__________

You've taken it off your reading list, but I just bought and finished "The Baron in the Trees" and really liked it. I also read "The Myth of Sisyphus" right after and definitely liked the former better. Just finished Barth's "Dogmatics in Outline" and now on to "Pensees" (it was a long business trip). Suggestions on what next?
Spencer
__________
What a lovely little abandoned shack. I'm tempted to kick in the door, as it is clear that whoever used to inhabit this place has since moved on - permanently, by the look of things. But these walls were built by his hands. And so they are sacred. Perhaps the Abbey on the hill can provide me shelter. Should you return, I hope to meet you.
__________

Well, I've been to the monestary, and it appears abandoned too, strangely. I believe I shall make camp here for the night, as I'm unclear as to which direction leads safely from this valley. It it lovely - but the horizon seems forboding. I pray you return soon, I could use your help. If you do, look for my tent in the nearby woods.
Scriblerian
__________

The sense of unease has been identified. Over the past several nights, it has become especially clear to me. Wandering through the valley by day, I had become distracted by the sound of the river, the wind in the trees, and the warmth of the sun on my shoulders and face. But at night...
At night, with fewer distractions, it becomes obvious that I am singularly alone in this valley. Not only is the builder of this cabin absent - there is no indication of any life present whatever. No howling coyotes. No birds calling. Not even an insect's chirp.
What's more alarming than even this inexplicable solitude is that wandering to the edge of the forest has proven impossible. No matter how far I walk, and for what length of hours, I end up cresting the knoll to your cottage again.
I don't know if this should be troubling of peaceful for my soul. Those feelings flit like shadows and shift like the wind. I fear.
Scriblerian
__________
I tried kicking in your door here, but it is securely bolted. The windows are also curiously resiliant, and the slats confound any attempt at dislocation.
I don't want to intrude. It's just that this cottage is the only sign of any kind of life having ever been here. I feel I must find my way in, but thus far cannot.
I've read the other notes on the nail many times over. Strange, most.
I continue to await some sense of purpose for my current predicament. Perhaps if there were a key hidden somewhere...
Scriblerian
__________
Through the windows I spy various pieces of art and literature which I long to explore. The door clearly has two uniquely-shaped keyholes. One for the bolt, the other for the latch, I suppose. I've dug around as much as I can, seeking clues as to where you might have hidden the keys.
No avail
Scriblerian
__________
I've returned from an extended tour of this valley. I walked for two weeks straight. I believed myself hemmed in on all sides, but have since discovered a route through the mountains. Not sure where it will lead, but my rations are gone now, and without food to hunt –
I find myself strangely fearful and filled with sorrow for this place. Somehow I know that it shall forever remain deserted of life. The way into the valley is surely only known to a few. Scarce others might stumble on it by chance. Perhaps a few wanderers have heard of it and sought it as did I. But beautiful as it is - I pray they don't find it.
This shall be my last not on your doorpost nail - I will begin my treck to the mountains before first light. Your little pencil is but a nub now anyway. I doubt that any others shall make use of it.

Farewell. Should you return, I wish you well in your journeys. Perhaps our paths will cross someday. But I doubt it.
__________