Here we have tales of growing the mysterious Silver Star Oak.
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Fri Jul 1 11:47:18 2022
To: New_Thalos Lothaw Zandreya Imm Religion
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Trust that the soil knows what to do.
It is soil. It is firmament. The soil has been here since before mortals were conceived. It knows its purpose.
Trust that the sun knows what to do.
Is is the sun. It is radiant. The sun has been here since before the firmament was conceived. It knows its purpose.
Trust that the skies know what to do.
They are the skies. They rain and they shine. The skies have been here since the firmament was conceived. They know their purpose.
Trust that the acorn knows what to do.
It is a seed. It is possibility. Seeds have been here since plants were conceived. They know their purpose.
Trust that you know what to do.
You are mortals. You are caretakers and believers. You were conceived to experience the world and to trust in it. These are two of your purposes.
When a seed is planted, it is a sign of trust that the mechanisms of the world, so simple and so intricate, will serve their purposes and something will grow if it is meant to.
May this seed, kept so long from the soil, be trusted to do as the Mother Zandreya intended it to do. May it grow.
Tief
Monsignor of Zandreya and Turpa
Voice for the Winds
Oh, Star Oak sapling, in your tender embrace, I see the promise of a brighter, kinder place.
With armor and shield, Ill protect you little one, Until you tower tall, 'neath the radiant sun.
From Zandraya's embrace to the Father's grace, May you feed the Jewel with shade to trace.
Upon your branches wide and true, We shall always stand beside you.
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Tue Sep 26 23:08:38 2023
To: Rahma ( Whiskey imm religion Zandreya )
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A good evening one and all. In celebration of the anniversary of the sprouting of our star oak seedling I did want to share a tale I thought fitting for the occasion.
This is a tale that might be filled with some whimsical flights of fancy and imagination, so I do ask you all to bear with me. Though Mother Zandreya's gifts are often the most wondrous of all.
I ask you all to imagine a place of stars and silver light. A forest of silver oak trees high above Algoron tended to by the Blessed Mother herself.
It's there our tale begins when a single acorn falls from the star filled forest and down to Algoron.
It was only fitting that it was during the Festival of the Stars that this acorn came to Algoron. This acorn was filled with both excitement for a new adventure and loneliness for to it's knowledge it was the only one of it's kind to fall to Algoron.
Many had gathered for the festival and it was a joyous occasion filled with wonder that the acorn felt at home in some ways. Unbeknownst, the Blessed Mother had placed the acorn in the pockets of a dark elf of all people who ended up there and causing a stir.
The dark elf only discovered the acorn later and his eyes were filled with wonder as he gazed upon the glowing silver acorn with a starburst atop it.
He knew without a doubt it was a gift from the Blessed Mother and took it as a sign of acceptance as one of the few dark elven followers of the Blessed Mother.
The dark elf treasured the acorn and carried it with him wherever he went for many seasons. He took solace in Mother Zandreya's gift in times of hardship and drew inspiration from it to keep going.
It was during one of these times, when the dark elf was feeling melancholy for his people existing under the shadow of despair that the dark elf came to an epiphany.
The dark elf never questioned how rare or wonderful the acorn he carried so long was, but he did forget it's true purpose. To live and grow. The acorn was beyond happy at this. For as nice as it was to journey with it's keeper, safe and warm, it's purpose was always to take root and grow.
In an act of faith the dark elf planted the acorn in the middle of his city and gave his most treasured object to the world. He and his friends cared for it, watered it, prayed, sung to it, danced and even brought the rain to the desert in which it grew. In fact in the welcoming embrace of the river they grew many fruits and herbs of all sorts.
Many hoped the acorn from a divine realm beyond Algoron would somehow save Algoron from the shadow of threat, that it's branches would shade the people from harm and bring a new wave of life.
Lo and behold the acorn did take root, strong and deep, the soil it emerged from being so rich and moist the mortals were all convinced it was a miracle. An oak like no other on Algoron it's bark and leaves a silver color that reflect all light.
The seedling had but a singular purpose. To live, grow and project life.
It was small and trees take time to grow, but the people eagerly awaited.
Even if it would be their children who sat in the shade of this tree and not them, they continued to nurture the tree. For the blessings of Mother Zandreya were meant to be passed on from generation to generation, the world never being the same, but with life always finding a way no matter the circumstances.
Salaam in the West,
Earth's steady embrace.
Nourishing, supporting,
solid ground be blessed.
Salaam in the North,
Water's cold splash.
Flowing from sky to sea,
healing rains called forth.
Salaam in the East,
Air's warm desert breath.
Winds uplifting hearts,
hope for bounty increased.
Salaam in the South,
Fire's life, radiant sun.
Leaves reaching overhead,
to sing praise from our mouth.
Joy for Haoma, tree of life, dancing with the cycle's spin,
Peace under her branches, healing the connection between earth and sky,
Each star and raindrop, precious seeds from high.
Scattered on Weather's Winds, so the divine grows within.
Salaam to all who plant her seeds and embrace life,
under the stars and over the sand,
may there be peace upon this grove and land.
As-salaam alaykum.
Something that I hope to come true, from this oak here.
As we give to it love, care, and strength of spirit...
A silver oak upon the hill, unfolds its limbs with Grace,
it whispers to the passing Wind, a quiet, steadfast Place.
The Sun bestows its Golden Rays, The Rain, a Silver Crown,
and through the Seasons, firm it stands, As Time and Light move 'round.
The Storm may rage, the Night may fall, Yet still it holds its form,
a testament of Gentle Strength, to bend, and yet, transform.
And though the World may pass it by, with hurried, restless Gaze,
The Oak remains, a Sovereign Ghost, in natures Endless Praise.
- Sir Rundelhous Wulid Alnuhaas, Captain of the Shield (9/24/2024)
There once was a sapling, Who grew upon the square,
It fought well in its battling, To grow up fit and fair.
Watched by a many, Watered by a few,
To match its growing, The strong winds blew.
It bent and it swayed, Yet stood firm with Zandreyas grace,
With roots that had stayed, Through time's heavy pace.
Still yet the sapling will grow, Encouraged and tended by the Jewel,
It will finally show, How strength and faith can fuel!
- Sheikh Raimbaut Reinhart, High Justice of the Knighthood (9/24/2024)
Upon the night when a festival of stars cross the land,
The Jewel gathers neath the brightening skies.
With silver stars in garlands hand by hand,
They crown the oak, their hopes within its rise.
A gift bestowed on Sultan Lothaw, wise and just,
The acorns cap adorned with a silver star.
Its roots dug deep, a sacred tree to trust,
A future bright, the peoples guiding star!
The sapling small, yet rooted firm and deep,
A symbol of the strength they long revere.
With songs and dance, the ancient vows they keep,
To guard its growth throughout the coming year.
The Elder speaks of wisdom in its leaves,
How time and care will shape the mighty tree.
The festival brings joy that none deceives
A promise shared by all in unity!
So grows the oak, and with it, futures bloom,
A living star amidst the festivals room.
- Morkus the Sihr Sha'ir of New Thalos (9/24/2024)