The rain poured over as I treaded on mud with Treebeard beside me holding his branches protecting me from the rain. The silence of the morning with his breath atop my head gave me a shiver to my bones.
"He will come, sit down and pray," Treebeard uttered as his eyes squinted for a view down yonder.
"Dreams took me here and I feel lost, yearning for it," I said as I looked up to him.
"Patience," said Treebeard.
A yee-haw echoed half a mile away, brisking sounds of Tom Bombadil running on my path to journey as he chances.
"Hah! Morning dew is a merry drink for an ill soul, what creature are ye?" He yelled with his eyes merry and his bright blue jacket as the sky.
"Tom Bombadil, be my friend, and teach me thy steadfast ways to withstand the pull of the ring," I said to him, shivering in the rain.
Over Tom Bombadil was a perpetual sunshine with a small cloud weaving in and out of vision.
"She is lesser than merry, Tom. A sole survivor with a mission to live a warrior's journey," Treebeard said. "Middle Earth is full of her sorts of beings."
"Warrior's journey? Why? Have you a sword to battle?" Tom Bombadil asked.
"No, just a pen," I placed my hand inside my jeans pocket and pulled out my blue pen.
"Looks dangerous," said Tom Bombadil. "But, write your tell-tale as your heart fancies!" Tom Bombadil jumped and merrily danced in a circle and stretched his hands towards me. "Blue!"
His big brown eyes at me and his long greying hair rumpled with a feather in his hat and bright yellow boots.
"Why haven't you been moved by the ring?" I asked. "What strength have you that I may have some in me?"
"I am simply the mightiest creature in all of Middle-Earth!" Tom Bombadil said. "Also, His love endureth, and joy reminds."
"She is a weary daugther, weak spirit, and mighty in need of comfort, Tom," said Treebeard. "She might need your hug."
"Is that so?" Tom Bombadil said. He jumped and rushed towards me, and ran into my chest as he was but as tall as my belly button. I fell and he cuddled me inside his worn robes and bright blue jacket. His tall hat fell on the mud.
"Oh, my feathers! Might suit your heart to be tickled at your nose." He took his feathers and whisped the yellow feather on my nose and face.
"Too much," I said, my sounds muffled inside his arm pits. A red robin perched on Treebeard's branch and sang a melodious song for us. I listened and closed my eyes. As the song finished, Tom Bombadil kicked my shin and I fell on the ground once more.
"What? Why?!" I said, a bit angry.
"Stop moseying around Middle-Earth as if it was a deathly journey. Join the pilgrimage of the Elves, Hobbitons, and fight the Orcs! Be attuned to your calling! Stop this!" Tom Bombadil yelled at me. "And might I say, merriest is she who awakens with a purposeful spirit."
Tom Bombadil was never moved by the pull of "The Ring," a symbol in my mind of a divine relationship of man, woman, and God.
"Otherwise, it will lead to Necromancy!" said Tom Bombadil, snickering his nose, this time with his fingers, as he shook his bum from side to side.
"I promise myself never to lead down that path, Uncle Tom," I said. I promised the Lord of the Rings, to stand with the divine and to retain control of my subconscious and surrender to the Almighty to not fret about the journey. It was to my benefit to still be kept on guard to work my destiny and place my effort to please Him, than to follow the path of sorrow inside Middle-Earth.
"Then, wake up, wake up, O daugther, and solemn no more! Sing into the daylight and nay to tears of worry!" said Tom Bombadil. "And help those who are in need."
"My, Uncle Tom, I have a lot to work on," I said, as the crevices of my eyes opened and my alarm beeped.
"Until tomorrow, O Daughter! Derry-dol, merry-dol, my darling and welcome the sunny weather and glittering snows!" sang Tom Bombadil.
Treebeard and Tom Bombadil disappeared into my dreams and I knew I would dream another dream of a story longing to be told from my journey not long ago.