Caleb walked through the stalls of the market, eyes drawn to bright colors and intricate carvings. Then he saw it - standing alone on a table, as if waiting for him.
It was a goblet carved from a single piece of moonstone, its sides curving gently inward. Intricate lines covered the surface like the constellations themselves.
Caleb picked up the goblet, turning it over in his hands. It was as if the stars had been poured into its depths. A sense of ancient magic filled the air.
The merchant watched him carefully. "That goblet holds moon dust from ages past. Whoever drinks from it shall see visions of things yet to come."
Caleb studied the merchant, then looked back at the goblet. "How much?" he asked softly.
A price was named. Though high, Caleb could tell the goblet's magic was indeed rare. He handed over the coins and the goblet was now his.
That night, Caleb sat with the goblet before him, contemplating what visions it might reveal. At last he lifted it to his lips and drank.
Instantly, images rushed before his eyes - of battles fought and loves lost, of kingdoms rising and falling into dust. And he saw wonders too numerous to name, both dark and bright, that would shape the ages to come.
When at last the visions faded, Caleb sat in silence. The goblet felt heavy now, bearing the weight of truths both glorious and terrible.
He lifted his pen, and began to write of all he had seen -transforming visions of the future into poems of the present. For upon a poet rests the duty not only to describe what is - but to help create what could be.
In shining cup I see,
Myself as I hope to be,
Illuminated.
Before my eyes unfold
Tales yet untold
Of wonders unknown.
Darkness lurks in corners dim
While rays of light grow ever slim
As shadows lengthen.
And horrors walk
That chill the soul
With clawed fingers sharp.
Yet beauty shines
Inside these lines
Like distant beacon's beams.
The future waits
Beyond these gates
Yet unshaped, unformed.
And upon this seat
Where vision meets
Reality's design.
The poet's role -
To help create
What only dreams of dare.
For what could be
The vision sees
Though yet unrealized.