In the throes of solitude

[From: Journeys at Eventide]

In the throes of solitude,
discerning elvish runes
hidden among the leafless branches
twining beneath the moons.

Beneath fair silver Änanfël
sailing out of the west
on sundered waves with star-spray
glittering upon each crest.

And also golden Ixilthwë
arising from the east
in vestiture of blazing clouds
as solemn as a priest.

At middle-night, the twain shall meet
in an alchemy of light;
the priest will board the shining ship
as stars burn golden-bright.

The trees will sway their barren limbs
toward the meeting moons,
and sleep will come in the mingled light
under a canopy of runes.