The Garden of Sir Jibril – Words for the Knighting of Jibril al-Dakhil

The Full Chapter from the Book of Jibril on the Occasion of His Knighting

1. Into the kingdom came a man. 2. He was only a man, nothing more and nothing less, bestowed with the gifts which all men may access. 3. He took a name for himself, and was called Jibril. 4. This man could have taken his own gifts and done with them for himself. Many men do this, neither to their credit nor demerit. They are not judged. 5. Jibril took his gifts as though they were the seeds of fine trees. Each one he planted and tended.

6. After many years the trees did grow, to the height of a man, each green with leaves. 7. Though the growth was slow, he nurtured them with his deeds. The things he did for himself made the leaves brighter. The things he did for others made the trunks stronger. The things he did because they were the right things – those went deep into the soil.

8. In time the trees gave shelter and shade. Each limb he trimmed was fashioned into an object of beauty or a finely wrought weapon. The trees became a grove where people gathered around him in friendship. 9. All had come to respect this man who so tended his grove and was generous with his property and riches it had granted him. 10. One day Jibril was with his beloved company among the grove he had planted when, in the heat of the summer sun and its monsoons of rains, every tree burst into bloom. 11. The blossoms shone in the light, reflecting the gifts he had planted long ago, each branch weighty with his virtues.

12. The trees could now be named: Courage, with blossoms red as blood; Justice, blooming with orange fire; Generosity, as gold as honey; Hope, as green as the first spring; Mercy, as blue as lapis lazuli; Nobility, as purple as the dusk; Prowess, indigo so dark as to be night.  13. The last tree which opened did so at dusk, and it bore a flower of the most pure and shining white ever seen. All who saw it understood that Jibril, in all his ceaseless tending, had brought forth the rarest flower of them all – Chivalry.

14. And so it was that a blossom from this tree was shown to all the land. 15. Thus was Prophet summoned before the King and Queen in his own garden with those of greatest honor, each of whom wore about them the white of the sun reflected in the moon. 16. They bade Jibril sit vigil in his garden to consider the deeds of his life. 17. After the moon had set, the white blossoms fell before him and a single great fruit grew upon the tree. 18. When the crowd returned, the white-bearers plucked this blossom and did open it into the hands of Jibril. This was the fruit of his labours and love – a belt of white and a chain of gold. 19. It is said that this, while seeming miraculous, was indeed not so, for it was merely the fruits of labor well-earned. 20. And so it was that he who was known as Prophet was now known also as Knight.

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The Abbreviated Court Version as read by Queen Kiena at Pennsic’s East Kingdom Court
upon the Knighting of Sir Jibril al-Dakhil

Into the kingdom came a man.He took a name for himself and was called Jibril. Jibril took his gifts as though they were the seeds of fine trees. Each one he planted and tended.

Though the growth was slow, he nurtured them with his deeds. The things he did for himself made their leaves brighter. The things he did for others made their trunks stronger. The things he did because they were the right things – those went deep into the soil.

In time the trees gave shelter and shade. Each limb he trimmed was fashioned into an object of beauty or a finely wrought weapon. One day Jibril was with his people among the grove when every tree burst into bloom. The blossoms shone in the light, reflecting the gifts he had planted long ago, each branch weighty with his virtues.

The trees could now be named: Courage, with blossoms red as blood; Justice, blooming with orange fire; Generosity, as gold as honey; Hope, as green as the first spring; Mercy, as blue as lapis lazuli; Nobility, as purple as the dusk; Prowess, indigo so dark as to be night. The last tree which opened, did so at dusk, and it bore a flower of the most pure and shining white ever seen. All who saw it understood that Jibril, in all his ceaseless tending, had brought forth the rarest flower of them all – Chivalry.

Thus was Prophet summoned before the King and Queen in his own garden with those of greatest honor, each of whom wore about them the white of the sun reflected in the moon. After the moon had set, a single great fruit grew upon the tree. The white-bearers plucked this blossom and did open it into the hands of Jibril. This was the fruit of his labours and love – a belt of white and a chain of gold. And so it was that he who was known as Prophet was now known also as Knight.

On Chivalry and Honor

If I fight with the strength of men and of angels, and I have not Honor, I am made as a thoughtless gale, or a falling tree.

And if I have prowess, and know all strategies, and all knowing of tactics, and if I have all armies so that I bear over hills from one place to another, and I have not Honor, I am nought.

And if I part all my goods into the meats of my allies, and if I perfecteth my form and talents, so that I burn, and if I have not Honor, it profiteth to me nothing.

Honor is patient, it is just; Honor envieth not, it doeth not wickedly, it is not blown up with pride,

it is not covetous of others’ accolades, it seeketh not those things that be his own, it is not stirred to wrath, it thinketh not evil, nor keepeth record of others’ wrongs, nor cause others dishonor;

it joyeth not in wickedness, forsooth it joyeth together with truth;
it suffereth all things, it protecteth all things, it sustaineth all things, it defendeth all things.

Honor falleth never down, whether battles shall be voided, either households shall cease, either alliances and armies shall be destroyed.

For a part we know, and a part we prophesy, but when that shall come that requires Honor, that thing not of Honor shall be voided.

When I was a little child, I spake as a little child, I understood as a little child, I thought as a little child; but when I was made a man, I voided those things that were of a little child.

Forsooth we see now by a mirror in darkness, but then face to face; now I know of part, but then I shall know, as and I am known.

And now dwelleth Honor, Loyalty, Justice, Defense, Courage, Prowess, Largess, Humility, and Nobility; but the most of these is Honor.

* * * * *

— These thoughts are dedicated to the members of the Chivalry in my life, some of whom wear the white and some of whom who do not yet wear the white. I am as a little child, but I watch and grow with everything I witness. Your personal dedication to Honor is ever an inspiration. I am certain you know who you are. —

(Text based on the Wyclyffe Bible version of the famed First Corinthians. The Wyclyffe Bible was first compiled/translated in the late 1300s.)

The Knight’s Ennui

I needa field of half-mown timothy

a steady summer breeze

a setting sun in splendor,

her long, slanting golden rays

reflected on the armor stand

sentries by the gate.

 

I need

a fire ring set with iron pots

a brace of coneys stripped

a hand of herbs and salt to cook

the beasts with wine,

stewing there so perfectly,

their scent wafting to the field.

 

I need

a family to gather

a table heavy laden

a jug of endless mead to share

sweet as that late summer sun

sinking into purple night

while the fire is built to brightness.

 

I need

a star filled sky

a harp nearby

a glass half-filled

to fill again with drink

as the laughter of good friends

intoxicates our aching selves

after a day of long battles.

 

I need

a field of half-mown timothy

a steady summer breeze

a rising sun in splendor,

her long, slanting golden rays

reflected on the armor stand

sentries by the gate.

 

****

 

May 29, 2013This was my response to Sir Tanaka’s Facebook status yesterday which noted that in light of his “ennui” he bid us answer the question, “I need…” “I Need…A Muse – and I Just Got One” was, while stunningly accurate, too awkward a title, so “The Knights Ennui” is the title instead.

 

– aneleda

Tourney Pilgrims

Written for the aspirants in the Armored Combat League trying for a spot in the Battle of the Nations Team USA.

The Pilgrim to the Tourney

The faithful pilgrim packs his pack
And starts upon the road,
Begins the journey with light step,
Though his arms bear a weighty load

Before him lay the journey long
Though legs may tire, his back is strong.
With others he marches in throng
His worth to prove to all.

The pilgrims take it foot by foot
Along the way they work and play.
Behind them are so many paths
Yet from here not a one will stray.

The way is often fierce and hard
They have been beaten, have been scarred
Yet unbruised honor well they guard
Their worth to prove to all.

Your eyes rest on the lofty goal
The keep is close, within your reach
With dented armor, polished arms
The close’d door each man must breach.

Brother now with brother pray
The pilgrim’s cloak now put away
With brutal chivalry display
Your worth to prove to all.

For all the brutal pilgrims taking this road today, I offer this (somewhat hastily composted) encouragement as you journey to the list. Stay safe, ferocious pilgrims. – aneleda

Poem for the Estrella War

 

A horn sounds out, its tone is sweet and strong.
Upon the ear sustained note doth lay.
It calls to goodly folk, “Come now along
heed war-fields’ call to sing and dance and play!
Swift, beside the stags and coneys, run
unto the place where gryphons, dragons meet,
a-gathered with their cousins in the sun
in fine display of kinship all too fleet.”
See now a land enchanted does appear
where all shall share in battle and in art,
from shyest maid to boist’rous cavalier,
each noble soul displays a nobl’er heart.

The echo’s path we followed, so contrived.
Beneath Estrella’s sky are all revived.