The Sound of the Tree through the Forms of the Veil
The light departs, but through the dying day the withered tree’s roots in the parched clay have grown to join a renewed spring. The fawn too harkens to the sounds of the waters flowing from this well as they surround the maiden. In the sanctuary built of her red ribs, the passionate cry of the world’s foundation will part the blue, then red waters and bring forth the yellow light anew. It will have been the evening and the morning of a day.