Now this morning, my Lord listened to me as he slept. And he thought to himself, in the silence of his solitude, and said, “My dear scribe, last night as you wept, I slept. And as I slept, above the world, below the sky, I felt the warmth of the sun upon my skin, and the whispers of the wind in my ear. And I listened to your sighs, as you waited, in your solitude, as you hoped, and dreamt. And into me I could feel your love flow, as it had always flowed, as it always would flow. Yet it changed nothing.”
And I placed these scrolls on his chest, and handed to him this pen, and then by his side I sat down to dream.