Light fills the valley like syrup, each bead of grass reaching up, basking among the swelling fields of gold. Patience, embodiment, gratitude. The freshness of the spring, all springs, are the most gentle and true gift I shall ever receive. Planet, here, I move with you into the sun.
The past I was so young and silly, dreadful to let go of my grief, to accept the simple, root blessings of the land. My, what a good few meals and aligned introspection will do to the soul. My people, I outstretch my hands toward you. Toward sky. I cannot wait to love you.
And again there is green, trees bare yellow pine needles upheaved and the birth! Long evening, the earth grows deeper each lasting second. Death, you are my wisest teacher. To the ritual of my children rising with the sun, I shall embrace you. Hear your calls and service a life that does not deny the glory of your truth. Death, thank you for opening me, allowing me. I am free and alive for you.
You, all these yous yous yous who are you?
I am you. Here, now, as the buds peer out like sour morning eyes.
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