“For the fragrance that came to each was like a memory of dewy mornings of unshadowed sun in some land of which the fair world in Spring is itself but a fleeting memory…Suddenly, he opened his eyes, and looked…with a light of knowledge and love was kindled in his eyes, and he spoke softly…”—J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
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…So it was in riverside’s bloom, though never the same as then—in blossom’s burst, fragrance in air of open sky and light—dream restored in scent on wind, always absent last and greatest piece: she.
Across his living years, he returned to the river and its carved valley of dream; and in fragrance of stirred memory, restored into the dream; wind and river speaking, softly, love that never left.
(Addendum piece to “Eternal Summer”)