00539 Day 71, the Gyre

In a time before man, Gods ruled the earth, living beyond what we could ever dream of perceiving.

And as they roamed the globe, they left their marks. Their mighty feet would scar the land, carving out great valleys and raising mountains. Their tears would fill the rivers and their blood would burst from the hills and run as molten lava.

Now they are gone and their legacy is the landscape, the singular proof of their existence.

But once in a thousand years, their essence, which still fills the skies in the shape of ephemeral clouds, concentrates in a single focus and leaves behind faint signatures, implying what greatness they used to possess.

That's what I heard, anyway - I raked this one at Vazon, with Brett and had cheese and marmite sandwiches (with gherkins).