And so, Our Mother was before Order and our Mother is now dead
and our Mother had been living in Chaos:

And when our Mother was dead, the three of us who had survived her being alive, 
were weighed down with grief and we were beside ourselves with sadness, 
for how were we to live without her:

And her life was without borders, and so there were no boundaries, 
and she moved from here to there, and made there nowhere 
and made nowhere memorable, and we were from her and then we were of her 
and so we were here and there and nowhere. But our Mother was before order 
and she managed the very winds themselves (or so it seemed to us), 
dispatch-ing amusing gusts, which affected us as if we were in a storm, 
a storm that had taken place on another planet governed by rules not at all familiar on earth: