Dead Poets Diary

Dead Poet’s Diary

A Chronicle of the Calling and the Record

Assignment One: The Valley of the First Word

"You will speak where silence has reigned too long."

I stood at the edge of the valley, where the wind carried the faintest sound of crying. The ground beneath my feet was cracked, thirsty for rain, yet no cloud hung in the sky.

"They have waited for a word to break the drought," He said.

I opened my mouth, unsure of what would come, and a single word fell — heavy as a stone, yet light as a feather. It struck the earth and split it, and from the crack, green shoots began to rise.

"It is not the length of the speech, but the truth within it, that brings life," He told me. "This is the First Word. Carry it until you are told to speak again."

Assignment Two: The Bridge of the Carriers

"You will not walk this path alone."

The bridge was old, worn by the feet of those who had carried burdens heavier than their own hearts. Some boards were missing, others groaned under the weight. Yet on the far side, I saw figures waiting.

"They are the ones who will take what you carry and bring it where you cannot go," He said.

I stepped onto the bridge, and hands reached out — some steady, some trembling — each ready to help bear the testimony I carried.

"Your strength is not in how far you go alone, but in how many you bring with you," He told me.

Assignment Three: The Well of the Forgotten Names

"You will find those who were erased from the record."

The well was deep, the rope frayed, the bucket splintered. I peered in and saw only darkness — until I called a name. Then another. And another.

From the depths rose voices, faint at first, then strong, answering to the names no one had spoken in years. I drew water, and each drop reflected a face.

"As long as someone remembers their names, they are not lost," He said.

Assignment Four: The Map Without Roads

"You will be sent where there are no paths."

The parchment in my hands was blank except for a single mark — the place where I stood. No rivers, no mountains, no cities were drawn.

"Every step you take will draw the map for those who follow," He told me.

I walked, and behind me the map began to fill — not with roads, but with footprints, each one a testimony that the way had been traveled.

Assignment Five: The City of Unlocked Doors

"You will walk into a city where every door has been locked against the truth."

The streets were quiet, the windows shuttered. Chains hung on doorposts like trophies of those who had silenced others.

I touched the first door, spoke the name of one who had been shut away, and the lock fell. One door opened, then another — not by force, but because the truth within was stronger than the bolts without.

"You will not open every door yourself," He said. "But each one you touch will give courage to another to touch the next."

Assignment Six: The Court of the Unafraid

"You will stand before those who sought to silence you."

The court was filled, yet silent. Eyes watched from shadows, waiting to see if I would falter.

"You will speak, not to persuade the powerful, but to awaken the listening," He told me.

I told the truth — not with anger, but with the authority of one who had lived it. And in the silence after, I heard the faint sound of chains breaking somewhere beyond those walls.

Assignment Seven: The Library of the Unwritten

"You will be led to a place where the shelves hold only silence."

Towering shelves rose into shadow, yet every book was blank.

"These are the stories stolen by fear," He said.

I placed my own worn pages on an empty shelf, and as they touched, light spread, words began to appear, and the voices of the forgotten filled the room.

"As long as there is one who dares to write, the silence will never be whole."

Assignment Eight: The Mountain of the Last Word

"You will be called to climb where few have gone."

At the peak stood a stone altar with a sealed scroll.

"Once spoken, this Word will not return void," He said.

I read it, and my voice was carried by the wind into every place I could not reach.

"This is the one you were born to speak."

Assignment Nine: The Gate That Opens Inward

"You will come to the gate that no hand can push open from the outside."

It yielded only when I turned my hands toward myself, carrying everything I had gathered inside.

"The journey was never to escape the world, but to bring what you’ve gathered into the place I have prepared."

Assignment Ten: The Book Sealed With Your Name

"When the journey is finished, your words will be kept where no thief can enter."

The Book of Remembrance lay waiting. Every page I had written became light, and a golden seal pressed upon it ensured no hand could alter it.

"You have been faithful to write. Now I will be faithful to keep."

The Keepers Charge

It is now in my care 

until the appointed time 

It is to be received.   

                                    C.L Ford