Where now the good Story?

Where is the original plot flowing, the romance growing, the battle-spell glowing?

Where is the wild wind blowing, the new seed sowing. They have passed like rain on the mountain,
like a wind in the meadow.

Like birdsong through the trees have they gone down in the West,

Down behind the hills and into shadow, Yet the spark remains.

The final dying embers that rekindle the imagination, the few faint sparks that shall leap again to blaze at the call of the new master.

Again shall the battle be met, shall blood be let.

Again shall the battle form, the

foe shall swarm, the power storm.

Again shall the Child be called, the evil stalled, the readers enthralled,

For all is not yet lost,

The story is growing.

~Base Poem on a by Tolken