“‘’Tis dark and cold o’er the crust o’ Earth, and thou and me awarm and close ahere.’
“But the Seed spake out: ‘Nay, this be the time I seek me o’er the Earth’s crust and see the Day thou tellest of.’
“And lo, he sent out leaf, and reached high. And lo, when the leaf had pushed up from ’neath the crust, there were snow’s cut and cold, and it died, and knew not the Day o’ the Mite: for the time was not riped that he should seek unto new days.
“And lo, the Stalk that had sent forth the Seed, sent forth amore, and lo, again a one did sink aside the Mite. And he spake to it of the Day o’ Earth and said: ‘Thy brother sought the Day, and it wert not time, and lo, he is no more.’
“And he told of the days of Earth unto the seed, and it spaked unto him and said: ‘This day o’ thee meaneth naught to me. Lo, I shall spring not a root, nor shall I to seek me the days o’ Earth. Nay, I shall lay me close and warm.’
“And e’en though the Mite spake unto the Seed at the time when it wert ripe that it should seek, lo, it lay, and Summer’s tide found it a naught, for it feeded ’pon itself, and lo, wert not.
“And at a later tide did a seed to fall, and it harked unto the Mite and waited the time, and when it wert riped, lo, it upped and sought the day. And it wert so as the Mite had spaked. And the Seed grew into a bush.
“And lo, the winged Mite flew out: for it had brought a brother out o’ the dark and unto the Day, and the task wert o’er.
“These abe like unto them who seek o’ the words o’ me.
“Now aweave thou.”