(with apologies to J.R.R. Tolkien and F. Scott Fitzgerald)

In Two of Two Thousand, a man named Elrond dreamed of a place in the Misty Mountains called Kalien. It was said of Elrond that “His house was perfect, whether you liked food, or drink, or sleep, or work, or story-telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking, best, or a pleasant mixture of them all.” (The Hobbit)

During his first half of life, Elrond was called a herald by some—by others a Man of the Renaissance. But Later, in his Middle years, wounded deeply and thus wounding others, Body and Soul withered by the Church, he fled in shame from the City of Sirens.

However, In Twelve of the year Two Thousand, Elrond, deeply in love, married his Muse, Regina, the daughter of Leaston the Elder and Lady Elizabeth.

After several years of wandering, they found their way home and built a simple cabin of cedar with their own hands where they lived until their home Rivendell (The Last Homely House West of the Mountains) was completed. They live with the companionship of two red-tailed hawks, Aya and Chayton, and Remy, a small but courageous Morkie.

In the Great Hall of Rivendell a fire always burns bright, a sumptuous table is always set, and Much Encouragement can be found within its walls. And oh, the music and the singing, it feels impossible, somehow, to feel gloomy or depressed in this place.

In Fifteen of Two Thousand, the dream of Kalien finally came true. It is a sacred place where souls who have “Lost all Delight, who are Wounded, Wandering, or Empty” can find Healing, Encouragement, and Peace.

Elrond and Lady Regina had traveled a long way to live in this place of Beauty and their Dream at first seemed so real they could hardly believe it. They had not known—but somehow dared to hope—that it had always been there before them, somewhere away in that vast obscurity beyond the Crowd, a Safe and Solitary Place where Lost Souls can find home.

Kalien is a Place of Magic, celebrating the orgastic dreams that year by year dance before us. As with Elrond, it may elude us for a time, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther, And one fine morning, if we are lucky, the sun will rise bright over the mountain mist and we will find our self at Kalien.

So we can dream on, swimming against the current, stumbling ceaselessly into being.