From: noahidebooksforever@gmail.com   
      
   The Moon and the Sun and the Stars   
      
   'It's a piece of prose,' said Callodyn. 'Written a while ago.'   
      
   'Obviously,' replied Kayella, looking at the document. It read:   
      
   'Celestial Objects. The Earth is the primacy of the Celestials of the Milky   
   Way Galaxy, despite its humble location outerwards. It is the birthplace of   
   man. The Moon is the Birthplace of the heart of the longings of the wolf, and   
   the heart of the    
   longings of the tides of the ocean. It is the heart of new age thinking oft at   
   times, and the heart of night, when dark creatures come out and roam. The Sun   
   is the glory of the day, when activity is greater, and creatures of a   
   different kind, more active    
   in some ways, rush around, nibbling their morsels of food, not so nocturnal in   
   their activity. Then, when day is done, they rest, and the creatures of the   
   night get back into the swing of things. There is design here. Creative   
   design. Man can be    
   nocturnal if he chooses to be. Fire can light the night, and bold heroes step   
   forth at time into the cold starry light to see what adventure they can have   
   in the cooler time of the clock, going on voyage to friend for comfort in   
   distress, going to wood    
   and forest to seek lost things, lost things of mystery from circumstances   
   involving friend and foe, who have hidden away answers in the shrubs, were   
   they retrieve a cloak, a dagger, a sword, a shield, a chest of treasure, or a   
   lost tapestry of their    
   heart. And in the woods at night they search, for the comfort of the night,   
   confronting dark creatures, and looking at the sky and stars, and pitying   
   themselves for the rain is surely coming, and they will not complete their   
   quest for the object they    
   need for the delight of the purpose of entertainment those still at home are   
   awaiting them for. The lord of the manor is not fearful, and in the dark   
   forest he collects these objects, the ladder left there by the lazy worker,   
   the shovel by the lazy    
   gamesman who needed to bury the dead carcass, all sorts of things the brave   
   souls past gone from us, venturing forth in the shadowy twilight times,   
   venturing forth to retrieve. And they always carry fire, or lamplight, till   
   the torch of modern eras    
   replaced the classical ways of man. And the moonlight was sung to and loved,   
   as the seeker spied the lovers, the faithless maiden of the man down the road,   
   who he would mock subtley the following evening at the tavern. But only mild   
   mockery, for it is a    
   case for concern. All the time the stars chatting about the silly fool who is   
   not really a nocturne by nature, but is brave at heart, and doesn't mind the   
   slosh because he is a real man. But when he rises, and the sun says to him,   
   now you have better    
   light, if you do recall, and he actually doth find his item of questing, he   
   retires to the back shed, throws the shovel, and refrains from cursing the   
   lazy worker, for good help is hard to find these days. And so it goes.'   
      
   'It's good,' said Kayella.   
      
   'Obviously,' replied Callodyn.   
      
   The End   
      
      
   The Wind and the Waves and the Clouds   
      
   'It's prose,' said Kayella.   
      
   'I can see that,' replied Callodyn, and began reading:   
      
   For the wind is strong, and blows the waves tempestuously, and the clouds pour   
   down the rain. And the sailor sails the sea, and glorifies the God of the   
   Oceans, a wise God is he, to put man in the richest of the elements. For the   
   oceans abound with life    
   untold, some we perchance are still to discover. All the richness and beauty   
   of another world, locked beneath proud waves and strong and mighty winds and   
   terrible grey clouds. And this is life in metaphor, for we all as humans, made   
   in the divine image,    
   have the forces of nature within our appearances, apparent to all. But lying   
   within them is a rich tapestry of thought and heart and emotion, hidden, only   
   to be found by true seekers of the depths of the human soul in their   
   inquiries, through honest    
   affection for the other, into their mysteries and knowledge and wisdom's and   
   understandings. The woman's heart – who can fathom it. It is more than   
   rubies and more still than diamonds in costings, for in that heart lies a   
   strength that those of the    
   masculine kind have still not uncovered, nor could they possibly, nay, nor   
   should they possibly. For when the waves are wild and the wind is blowing, a   
   woman's heart is wild and untameable, and no brave counterpart, no matter the   
   strength of their proud    
   proclamations, can unhinge or undeter the knowing truths of the woman's heart.   
   For she can enter the forest also, guided by light of fire, for she knows that   
   in the forest are not simply the things she seeks, but the encounters of life   
   and experience,    
   appreciating the beauty of the night, and its creatures, as she does also in   
   her own oceanic explorations, in other wild creatures, less of a concern to a   
   mere lord of a manor, caught up in manly mundane affairs, to simple to   
   appreciate the greater    
   fullness of the creation of the immortal God from heaven above. But this is a   
   mystery, and not all would understand it, especially those of the less fair   
   sex, for a woman is eternally unknowable in truth, eternally beautiful in   
   reality, and eternally    
   mysterious and enigmatic, in her hidden depths of the soul, those intoxicating   
   delights ever luring strange sailors, who, brave enough to risk the ire of the   
   Lord of the Manor, have taken to sea at the siren's call, dared its depths,   
   and uncovered and    
   redeemed pearls of wisdom which, for many, have laid hidden countless   
   generations. Or so the story goes.   
      
   'It's good,' said Callodyn.   
      
   'I can see that,' replied Kayella.   
      
   'Mine was longer,' said Callodyn.   
      
   'Bite me kemosabe,' replied Kayella.   
      
   The End   
      
      
   King Saruviel   
      
   'There is a way to the world. A way to understand the world which is a right   
   way and a true way,' said Saruviel to his followers. 'It is not the Divine Way   
   and it is not the Noahide or Jewish or Christian Way. It is none of those   
   ways. For those ways are    
   service. The right way is power. It is in the power of ruling and making the   
   decisions – leading others, who are simple and not capable muchly of leading   
   themselves – that we find the right way in life, having risen above our   
   fears and the fear    
   others would impose on our lives. Being stronger than those who would lecture   
   us and give us command. When we lead, they follow us. For we are strong by the   
   boldness of willing to be as such.'   
      
   'Here here,' said Kantriel.   
      
   'Speak it brother,' said Daraqel. The crowd was hushed.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)