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The sun has awoken to beckon the start

To open the door of stone, mind, and heart.

Bewilderment towards a day long expected,

Its inevitability is one that is some wish forgotten.

In familiar halls of recent times, kindred knots tighten again

To enter a room of both known and unknown faces

The jester beckons with mocks and praises

A maiden's gaze sets with jovial gain,

Yet the fool, abashed, departs upon shame's behest

Greeted with anxiety and cautious anticipation

The door is opened to reveal the question

One is urged to ponder where the fleeting leaves will lay

With the staggering thrusts of the phrontistery's first day