First Constitutional Letter to the populaces of Azeroth and Kalimdor
To whom it may concern, in short, all who may come by these thoughts that they might serve as a catalyst to reflection and more,
Our Mother is both of life and death, of the first to dance upon its face when the world was new, and fresh as a spring fawn. She is also our sister, a peer of twilight nature that does not grant us the ease of a simple knowledge that could encompass all that She is; yet, She is also intimately knowable if we permit ourselves to look within our very beings. While this may seem a contradiction, we must note that this crisis is not ours alone - the Light with its many shafts and points drawn into a single whole for ease does not sit well with me, nor with everyone. It is that the Ancients that we have known as we have grown as a people, and that our lives take us to many situations. She is our companion, we are of Her, and She is ours. We do not always need a distant pillar of control, for we are also wild; we do not always madate a judge over our actions for we are of free will; we do not always need a mother to nurture us, for we need also to be tempered by our experiences. She, along with the host of Ancients, must and do account for as many needs (wants are not the same, I warn) as there are expressions of Her.
There is much strife in this world, and I do firmly believe that it is not shock and awe that will rectify it. It is instead the nature of our beings that will allow us to find Her. It is not the priestesses or even Her Voice in Tyrande Whisperwind that brings us closer to her or sustains her. It is us, not in some foolish groveling and supplicating ourselves, but in our lives, I believe, She finds Her hope, as She provides unto us. It is not a passive belief, for she is active in our lives, perhaps so much so that we cannot allow ourselves to acknowledge it, but She is there in the flury of battle and in the serenity that comes with slipping to rest. She does hold what may be the only path to the salvation of our world and preservation of ourselves, but it is not by some great manifestation or epic battles of avatars. It is in the hearts and acts of all of us.
Remember then, that while the tide moves deep, and the storm may rage, we can still hold hope. Hope is, in my estimation, something that is dear since it is rare and can be left a smoldering ember. It is hard to snuff out that ember, however, that inherent spark that serves to provide the sense of accepting perseverence. Remember, even with the lack of luxuries such as easy choices or an easy road, that it is in our nature to hope. This is not some cruel trick of the heart and soul, for it is also in our nature to survive, to endure, and in that regard hope is both essential to our enjoyment of life and our survival. One who is truly without hope is shattered, broken, bereft of the ability to appreciate anything that remains.
All is not lost, however, for one in such a wretched state, for it is with the smallest chance that a new ember may be sparked or the broken remnants of a past hope be kindled. One who loses their will to live does not die immediately, and may still yet regain their will for life. It is not a futile endevor, but the motivation to come to one's conclusions is fickle and requires much discipline to stare all that one is and all that is about oneself and examine it for its essential nature and truths.
Think over these words, and from where your reactions spring, as well as their course.
Her unworthy and imperfect, yet sincere handmaiden,