It sounded like a fish dish, could be a song, even a plate of sole, veins
of soul or vain of soul, what the difference a letter makes, and how different meanings applied, Solomon was thinking aloud, and the way words and meanings played such a role in life, the same way the tone of a voice allayed fear in the listener. How you said it, how you did it, was not what mattered, you did it, that was the vein of soul, it laid tracks across your heart, added to the wavelength, the more you practiced, the better you got.
The vain of soul were interested in the immediate, those with veins of soul were interested in the outcome, not just now, but down the road, laying the vein as they say, the way Jesus did, his deeds speaking for them selves, all credit to the giver. Solomon sighed, it was the influence of those who went before that laid those golden nuggets, the way wisdom was laid in the strangest of places.