Take note, said the Mountain, crossing the brink. Remember each moment is perfectly timed. The Forest remembered the call of the dreaming and swayed to the window of possible endings. Oh sighed the branches, we’re stuck on this theme. We want to evolve and toss off this dream. What say you, the fallen fingered her fleshness. We want to know reasons, sang beetles in hiding. I know the answer the grass replied smugly. Listen and breathe, the sun beat down softly.
She is faceless, nameless, unaccountably wild. Wandering, wondering, sweet inner child. Holding, cradling, earth in her bones. Woman in fullness, knowing her crone. Goddess and temptress, hands in the dust. Knowing the mysteries of loving and lust. Baring her soul, exposing the core. Not only human, she’s totally raw.
The ground shuddered quietly and groped at the reason. There’s nothing to know, sang the leaves on the ground. It’s all deep connection that decays and replenishes. And all has no purpose and finds it’s own season.