The deepest shadow passes before the heart
upon looking up from your labors to find
that the visage of your child is no longer
to be found within your sight

Every crack and fallen feature is to be searched
Every riverbank, every tree, for children do love
to play at games of hiding, and delight in the relief
that comes to the face of a parent upon their return.

And yet the game continued as the night grew long
my calls of home and rest not answered,
The only response that of one who would waste away
rather than speak truth and reveal my child.

So I searched. Across the vast world while man
railed as to my impiety, and to my shirking of duty.
But there is no higher duty to be performed
No fields to be overseen and no law to uphold

And yet when my child returned to me
the world had made marks
upon her face, upon her innocence.
And I found less joy in the tasks which before had been all.

I know my search meant little here
Where far greater import to the mind of man lives
than that of a small mother, and a smaller daughter.
But it is my daughter that ends your fighting.

Indeed for her insight was greater than mine
for I intended to drag my brother by his ear
and apply such remedies as I had in our youth
to his impertinent and rash position.

But she implored upon me to allow her to stay
for love had grown, and she had even chosen
to eat willingly of the fruits that dwelled
Within the place that I found abhorrent.

She found a role within, one that brings a glimmer
of light to those within a place where none return
And she returns to me, remaining within my sphere
A great diplomat. One who goes to Hades, and enjoys the trip.

As I rest, so too does the soil,
Time to contemplate, and to remember
better times and worse,
but always the cycle continues.

With each planting the roads grow easier,
for they become well worn grooves,
my daughter bringing stones to pave the steps
and assemble the pillars that mark the path.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3yLMAxmlVNI]