The Wise Elder has long sat with the Mother,
In silence, in learning,
In grasping the wondrous circles and spirals of Her design.
He knows that there can never be only a single,
Simple thing along his path.
All must be two, then one, then two again.
The beauty he witnesses
Is spawned from the ugliness of the path he walks.
The ugliness that slows his way
Is soon replaced by Her beauty,
And replaced again and again, without end.
The Wise Elder knows that
His work is only easy after it has first become difficult.
His sees only the high hills from the low valleys,
Knowing that the low valleys wait to succor
The high hills in their time.
He sees the endless cycles of change,
The infinite circles and the spirals.
He knows that what seems so true today
Cannot be true tomorrow.
He has learned the First Great Lesson of the Mother.
The Wise Elder accepts Her dance
And commits to change nothing
Because he, too, is the circle and the duality.
By changing nothing that the Mother has set in motion
He becomes her happy companion.
This is his great wisdom.