How apropos that a great silence ensued.
Nature abhors a vacuum. Flowing streams, resolution, balance, overflow, unbalance, and back again. In and out it goes. Tick tock goes the pendulum.
Or not because it's a veritable fountain of flowing illusions springing from the cosmic mind which is just in the imagination of the fountain creating itself continuously, if at all really, and expressing itself in all possible permutations resulting in, at times, demonic stratifications not equipped to process its own destiny fast enough for the vacuum to be filled simply because sometimes the void consumes the gods, thusly closing the golden lemniscate spiraling back onto itself in an infinite nested aggregation of cells and layers, replete with eddies and vortexes.