From the four corners of the earth, from corners lashed in wind and bitten with rain and fire, from places where the winds begin and fogs are born with mist children, tall men from tall rocky slopes came and sleepy men from sleepy valleys, their women tall, their women sleepy, with bundles and belongings, with little ones babbling, "Where to now? what next?"

In the night, and overhead a shovel of stars for keeps, the people march: "Where to? what next?"