I must apologize for not visiting this site earlier in order to post my thoughts of gratitude and my deepest condolences to Mr. Jordan's family. Adrift is exactly how I felt when I learned of Mr. Jordan's passing., I was working in Border's Books and Music in San Luis Obispo, California and had just finished reading Knife of Dreams. The Wheel of Time books brought me so much joy that I often found myself urging customers interested in the genre to try the books if they had not yet done so. Shortly thereafter, I suffered my fourth heart attack (May 2008) and a subsequent stroke(November 2008. The stroke kept me off the net for a considerable period of time. Also as I have lost all sensation in the left side of my body, typing is often frought with an unacceptable level of typos (a continuing source of embarassment I assure you). I recently purchased the new book and look forward to reading it but before starting it decided to surf the net and discovered this site. I wanted to post something on this thread but could not coalesce or martial my thoughts well enough to dare to post anything here. Upon reading the post A Word From Harriet and Wilson, the appellation Warrior God took me back to some poems I had penned in days gone by which I felt would be appropriate. A Warrior I With Foretold Doom Freedom mounted on spotted horse, Sinewed thighs guide a twisted course, Across the plains with head held high, I yearn for vision from the sky. An eagle seen with wings outspread Searches canyon and riverbed, Then diving down to meet the prey, Talons seize and life ebbs away. Ghosts now dance along the mesa’s rim, The spirits speak in voices dim, They warn my death in coming gloom, A warrior I with foretold doom In final ride beneath the moon My blood runs red in afternoon. © Gravity Wells, 98/06/29 The Knight My sword stood in the corner, My shield was scarred and bloody, I don't want to fight this war. My body twisted and wounded, My spirit almost broken, I have been this way before. I am air now filled with dust, Come be my fire if you must, I can't hold out anymore. My lover then stroked my hair, She whispered her magic there As she kissed my tears away. It always comes down to this Power in a gentle kiss, Can strengthen through the day. She fed me the love I seek, Reviving my soul so weak, It was then I heard her say: "I am water, most holy, From the hour of my birth, I always knew of its worth, And you my love, my light, My precious beloved knight, You are my solid earth." © Gravity Wells, 1999 The Crusader I have traced these graves Across this burning desert Only to find another lifetime Buried in the sand. Homeless, as I wander, Crossed by doubt and pain, Comrades of some battle Lost inside my sight, As backward bleeding shafts of light Dance terror through my soul. Weary from this cross I wear, The sword heavy in my hand, My footfalls lead to the morrow, As I call upon your name. Round the fires of the evening, Wounds are bound, the graves are made, Silent in this vigil, Sons and lovers laid to rest, Spirits dancing their departures Only to find a darker night, Gather restless in the shadows And flicker through the flames, As the wind punishes the living, And purifies the light. © Gravity Wells, 1999 Rest ye well noble soul, pax vobiscum.