The women near the meadow bowed their heads.
        I did not know in sorrow, in contemplation, in waiting, in designing, I did not know.

I waited for a sound.
But why?

        When it came it was a vision and without provenience.


        Esme(e) cross-legged, hands on knees, eyes closed, in the midst and far beyond. Ventured near naught but indigo without form suggesting infinite depths. Without light suggesting Esme(e) seat and source of all attention and wondering quest.
        Did the women see her?
        Had they found her?
        Was I alone?
        Save Esme(e)
        but alone
        glowing emanations moving endlessly veiling, freeing, limning, etching Esme(e) on the dark.
        She glowed, her breast, her head, she glowed and veils of illumination rippled, praised, succored, curled  like smoke and radiation cloaking northern skies.
        For vivid moments Esme(e) glowed, Esme(e) embowered tendrils of light bent upon inscrutable intent aureoled, zodiacal, lightning prehensile on Esme(e)'s shoulders, tissues of light aurora the dark crown Esme(e) a moment.
        "What happens?"
        "What occurs?"
        "What is Esme(e) doing?"
        "Maybe she has always done it, and it's we who change and now can see."