What comes after . . . I cannot tell. Whether dreams or darkness or light. What remains, I know. Love. Love remains here. There, I can only guess.
Then, have you found your way, O seer?
The answer is often found in the question, if it’s the right question. You call me seer after I admit my blindness. There I am not what I am. That is the best answer I can give. Here, a seer, a source of insight and wisdom; so I’ve been named. I cannot claim those for myself; I have seen what I do not, what cannot be, seen.
Tale Told 