Twas a week before the solstice
and all through the grove
not a creature was stirring,
no, not even a troll.
Could be the spam is filtered
so I don't see all there is.
Seeing nothing can happen,
it makes me go, gee wiz.
The wizards of dao
they sure had a knack
of returning to the solstice
and keeping on track.
They knew of the equinox,
how to remain in the balance.
They knew of the limits,
how to make use of talents.
But mostly they did nothing,
not saying, not doing,
as 10k things unfolded,
silent wings invisible.
Then, making a racket,
tennis b'alls began to fly.
Round and over the nets
they went both low and high.
The games were entered into
and played as if they mattered.
Forgetting while involving,
yet retaining something, the knack,
of returning to the solstice.
Every once
in a while.
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