And so the girl child sat knitting melodies beside the great river of words. Soon her songs were heard, beyond the Lake of Lyrics and the vast Sea of Verse.
The evening tide carried them across oceans to foreign shores. Field workers sang her songs to children in their hovels. They escaped the lips of scholars in the great halls of learning.
The child became a woman, and still she weaved the magic, from the words of the river, for the hearts of all who read them. As she weaved she told the secret to a child who knitted beside her.
Emerging from the womb of time I heard her whisper to my heart. I felt the great river in my being, and I began to knit a melody. I heard my soul sing with joy, I am the child of an ancient poet.