Late in the day he begins to distrust absolute knowledge, the absolute power once conferred on him. He has borne that burdon too long. The more he thinks, the lighter he becomes. At times he dreams of becoming so light that he can soar up to play with clouds. At times he dreams of shedding his large body and lying down to rest on a lotus leaf. He has understood that he can never reinvent the history of mankind. Never reverse it, never adjust it, never rectify. But he can show us unwavering love, and he can teach us to show love towards one another. He is a god, not a potentate. He would love us, not judge us. He sees that we need forgiveness. He wishes to convert us to ourselves. If we are guilty, he feels guilt for us. He knows. He has been through wars sieges bombings trenches nuclear fallout. Yet he continues to love us, and have faith. His greatest fear is a world where the grass grows without history, without us. He has come to prevent this. He is so happy and so unhappy. He walks in exile among men. He lets himself be dispersed into creation. He remains.