then SUM will be destroyed; and you, strong and fair, may go back to earth and rain.
I shall await you.
My aloneness is nearly ended, Daybright. just one task remains. The god must die, that his followers mnay believe he is raised from the dead and hives forever. Then they will go on to conquer the world.
There are those who say I have spurned and offended them. They too, borne on the tide which I raised, have torn out their machine souls and seek in music
and ecstasy to find a meaning for existence. But their creed is a savage one, which has taken theni into wildcountry, where they ambush the monitors sent against them and practice cruel rites. They believe that the final reality is female. Nevertheless, messengers of theirs have approached me with the suggestion of a mystic marriage. This I refused; my wedding was long ago, and will be celebrated again when this cycle of the world has closed.
Therefore they hate me. But I have said I will come anA talk to them.
I leave the road at the bottom of the valley and walk singing up the hill. Those few I let come this far with me have been told to abide my return. They shiver in the sunset; the vernal equinox is three days away. I feel no cold myself. I stride exultant among briars and twisted ancient apple trees. If my bare feet heave a little blood in the snow, that is good. The ridges aroumid are dark with forest, which waits hike the skeleton dead for heaves to be breathed across it again. The eastern sky is purple, where stands the evening star. Overhead, against blue, cruises an early flight of homebound geese. Their calls drift faintly down to me. Westward, above me and before me, smolders redness. Etched black against it are the women.