# [D28:2M] Vision: [[I Wish My Head Were a Well of Water]] Hexagram: [[Twenty Eighth Hexagram]] Trials: [[Twenty Eighth Trial]] 382 AD 1. I sat in the dry summer forest beneath a high morning sun listening to a sound like that of 10,000 needles piercing the air. Many times had I heard these bark beetles typing away in their unseen chambers, and yet only now should I identify, in all that jagged canopy, the one breath that retreats and returns as a single machinery among them. Hearing this at so late an hour, I matched the tempo of my breathing to theirs and forgot all the enemies of my life, save this one in prayer, and I prayed. 2. My head was a bottomless well and my eyes its protruding fountains. The nearby enemae slithered in like  venomous snakes through my veins and bit me ten thousand times. My heart dried and blackened from the poison and my lungs filled with water. The forest sunk into a desert where I could find no hiding place in the midst and the noise of targets. I wished to wake from a bad dream but prayed my wish go ungranted.  I prayed my enemae refine me like metal and put me to the test, and it did.  Its tongues were like deadly arrows and it spoke words my heart had never heard.  I prayed, "leave me no understanding friend, that I should rather desire to meld my life with my enemae, sheep-headed, wolf-eyed.”   And a voice said, “I shall teach you to draw and to lose your hand to it.”  They say you can't be a prophet in your own country.  But I have no country, and my prophesy is for no one.