Of Diplomacy in Love

Iadago, my brother, you have slept with the woman of my dreams, in the field of our Fathers, with the spirit of our Blessed Mother. Do not hold your heart above the heady wind that blows the stalks of wheat and corn and sass and dandy down to the edge of New Water. The upstarts of our time will make you see what she is for me and no one else. Do you not see the way she moves like the forever Running Creek of Obligation, how she sways with the limbs that cover the Marshy Forest floor? Do not deny her her Benedictine power. I am wearing the frock of the colors of my party, the party of the gods before me, and the gods before them, the demiurge of First World. This Order protects me from those who would demean me - demon me; if you would deny the roving spirit its ounce of flesh it will take a pound its due. Neither this nor that is wrongful or rightful, only just. It is merely - and merely enough. Ruby orange aurantiacums burst through ash caked, dust driveled soil; how does it know? The bust of life, premature, exceeds its expectations. A hawk circles, a dog strays from the shelter of evergreens. Who will win? The dog is hungrier but the hawk's patience is tenable - patience, the virtue of cunning? Or tact, the ascent of strength? The hawk, outlier, or fable of dark persist? And life, in close proximity to death, meets its makar. It's not the size of the animal in the fight, it's the size of il coglione in the animal. Two men and one woman on the equal field, presumably one will fall, But who? And will that one who falling fall and still remain untethered to Envy-all? You, Heremias, you must heed the voice of the Land, the iron throated roar of Rock, the salience of Sky, the epistle of Fire, and the Constance of Water. Why are you crying? Is it your inconstancy, your wanting the woman of the Land, who holds the Equal Field of Promise with promise of beauty? Is she not worth your abject chasing, your Earnest Erasing of all prior history to the present point, the scintilla of Vexation? Beg her to slow down her pursuit of your brother Iadago, Heremias, else you will have none of her Fire, her Sky, or her Rock - all will be as empty skeletons in an Un-Equal Field of despondency and ruin, as the organs of usefulness are in the Chrestomathy.