[...The sorting of seeds and grain...]

I didn't know where to put what, so I put it all in you.

[ The sorting of seeds and grain ]

Division is present. Necessary. In uniting the whole.

Which are seeds that need growing? In what soil do I plant them? 

Which is wheat, ready to be ground and baked into bread?

Which are oats, steel-cut and ready to boil?

Which seeds and grains are these?

How do I tell them apart?

What are they, and

What do they need?

Where do they go?

...

I delved them all into your soil, whether seed or grain, desperate to unload them from my carrying. Desperate to see something grow so I could feast from the table of our union...

But the myths already tell us otherwise. From barley does not grow bread. 

So Vasilissa sorted grain. As did Psyche.

As have I.