On Death

The residents of Faerie have difficulty distinguishing between life and death, because they perceive them to be two parts of a much larger process whose internal boundaries are at best diffuse, perhaps even cyclical and, in some opinions, entirely non-existent. To be sure, in Faerie the geometry of time pushes life in the direction of death, but the transition is continuous and gradual, rather than the abrupt cessation associated with death on Earth. There is more than a little death circulating in all residents of Faerie, in some, more death than life. This death is found intertwined with life in stone, water and sky and forest. On moonless nights, a solitary voice cries out among the trees, "I have been dead a long time!" Although the birds nesting in the vicinity show no sign of being disturbed by the plaintive call, we understand this declaration as a plea, a heartfelt request for clarification regarding the ambiguous distribution of life and death found within each of us. There is, of course, no answer forthcoming because the keepers of the secrets--ancient, weathered mountains, sunrises on a featureless horizon far out to sea, and evanescent shadows appearing only for an instant in moments of despair--are all mute. In the absence of any explanation, we continue to flicker, alternating in the steps of an erratic dance between darkness and light. The process in Faerie most akin to the death we know on Earth is to have never lived at all.