Was the call true?
 Lustrous as the will it sourced?

The time was ripe.


A moment condensed.

These things have no beginning. No end.
 They just are.

Where the lake shimmers, still... And the water runs deep.
 Deep, deeper and
 deeper still.

Roots awake, for sorrow calls true.
 With empathy - that Is.
 That's how it is understood.

Still understood.

Does it end, you ask?

With Him, yes. 

And the call is stilled. Very stilled.