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The parable of the rock

The years and the years ago, there was a cave, and inside that cave, a cracked rock with a volcano at its heart. And the cave was grey and layered and smooth, mixing with the grey-blue light like water into water.

And the light touched the rock. And the fire in the rock was a violent mutagen, poisoning everything it touched, which was why it had been hidden away in the rock in the first place, and the light was contaminated and grieved bitterly with the fire's curse. And then there was the presence of the LORD our God, and while the touch of the LORD was soothing unto the fire, the rock still remained steadfast, and the LORD did not push it. And the light crept into the cracks of the rock where the hand of the LORD had not touched, and then did the rock relent, and the healing touch soothed the violence of the flame within the rock.

And at length, shall the rock crumble unto gravel, and thence unto sand, and the softness of the sand shall be suited unto the cave, and the cave shall be lit brilliantly.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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