Short Little Stories

In the early days of time, when the race of mankind was yet young, and the world itself still learning its own nature, a young girl sang the First Song. Now, we know that even now, songs have power – but all the melody of modern times is but a small reflection of that single song. Every word spoken, every tune sung, every sigh and sound and speech… all originated in that moment of beginning, that primal note called forth by the girl.

But this is the story of another. For while the race of man marvelled over the gift brought forth by the Song, another had also found the Music – and thus the Second Song was born, and was to prove more bane than blessing for its singer. For while the Second Song was just as sweet and fair as the First, the singer was not, and was scorned by all others. The singer, cast out and rejected, fled to the wild places of the world, and so too passed the Second Song from mankind.

Now, just as the First Song left its mark, and can still be seen today in word and language and all the music of the modern age, so too did the Second Song pass into the wilderness and the natural world. It yet remains in the sound of birds singing, and the whistling of the wind through trees, the gentle sigh of a peaceful stream, and the booming crack of thunder in the night.

And some say that even now, the one who brought the Second Song into the world yet lives, and that the First Song, in truth, was flawed. The second melody, the one rejected by man, was eternal and everlasting, while the first tune only remains in echoes and the lingering memory of sound. Had we embraced the Second Song, perhaps we too would be able to know an aspect of that eternity… but it was not to be, and we must be content that the Song remains, and will yet endure regardless of our approval and our will. It shall survive all the ages of the world, as fresh and sweet as the earliest days of time…

And there is some comfort in that, as there should be, and it is enough.