Nothing is left that deserves our dread,
all that was untamed lies beneath the rugs,
the steppes no longer hold a blizzard,
and ash has overtaken the roads.
And yet,
it is fear that is the law,
no other. There is nothing
to clear our gazes of brush,
our homes lie sunk in that
dark foundation upon which we cast
our words. We cry out to heaven
and whole peoples are flayed
beneath the firmament. The buffoons shout:
Rejoice!
We wear the wolf’s skin!
We need no longer fear him…
The shadow we used to see in dreams,
the one to which we gave the first names
before we gave them to the light,
still flows in our blood.
We are afraid of ourselves
only
and upon that we have built the Word.
We Are Wellspring, p. 14