God who freed from fruit the seed can pick a pear from a baby tree.
God who sired the hallowed fig does harvest fruit from a barren sprig.
God made blooms pastel and bright fruits and can a kumquat take from a tree of quince.
He Who made Pluto and the Pleiades can pluck a plum where there is no tree.
He thought it was just another water mirage but it was the sea mirror of the rising sun
.. in her reflections creating miracles of his light projections
As angelic muses’ inspiration descends, it becomes wrapped in
Thank God that the tide, breaking beams of light, the cleansing wind, the nursing rain…rush in where angels, it is perhaps falsely said,fear to tread.
Ugly ducklings… Will it always make me cry.. to see their swandom achieve liftoff and soar into the sky
Receives no light from the sun, the other side of the moon…
but she is awash in starlight and glowblessed by rays of Neptune.
His great laugh carried weak jokes on high. His great laugh lifted heartships with lovetide.
His joy so strong pulled little lamblings along. His sweet words surroundedby his booming voice song
All unrequited love will be requited. All good wishes into life ignited. All the blind..
newly sighted. All dark places slowly lighted.
Time reveals all love that’s hidden. In suddenness…it comes unbidden.
Beyond my projections may I be the reflection of your soul’s lovelight perfection
Love waits in the wings. One need not follow the script
to give entrance cues.
Love…confined in rhyme as a seed contains endless groves of lime
John Candy weighed much…one stopped noticing.. his humor
and charisma were incandescent
The liberation of the candle: Orpheus’ lovefire
lifts Eurydice from hell…burns her wax entire
Blue herons alight…in high nests…air rescue planes
bring food to needy
Tony Randall was a master of his art… but he was more…
a master of hearts.
The sun, creating day wherever he goes, cannot find the night.
Love seeing only the Lovable finds no fault in His projected light.
We might not love a spiritual hero if we think he doesn’t love us. We might love someone with many
faults if we feel his love for us.
Sad was the sea of Being that she was not a river of doing and so God gave her currents. While the woodpecker wooed the woods with his whittling she carved caves.
Birds have oerleapt the sea oarcleft. But she has not been harmed
Bee has the petals of clover cloven but she has not been harmed
Constantinaples: Beneath the spires of Naples and Constantinople
lies the sea shimmering in sun’s iridescent opals.
.. as humans of varying frequencies float crystallized on their own Spirit Seas
The sea honors the confessional seal… giving absolution to reformed fishermen
who no longer club seals
The bubbles, the spray, the breakers which have rent the surface of the Sea…
are not sin
but joy in being. She receives them … reseaves them …back into her serene
The sea charges the shore…and withdraws …to charge some more.
Waves of the sea …become waves of peace…Ebbtides recede
leaving seaseeds..but the Sea.. the Sea never secedes
One goes to the sea When afflicted with anger
By her calm shores gulls are no strangers
In quiet pools..the sea’s little mangers
.. She rocks us to peace..the cradling Seachanger
The sun left for Chicago last night..without saying goodbye..
as he the sun has always done. We knew he had gone for suddenly
we felt alone. This morning he was here again! He has just now flown in from Spain! We knew he was home….for suddenly we feel warm
Today the sun is granting plenary indulgences.. to everyone.. shining on all
.. as he does everyday .. the great sun ball.
Your lightning beams have my dreamstage curtains rent… dissolving actors and scenes have been away sent
In the prided wood, the Lord of Luminescence gives to each fruit a dewy essence
and with light each lemon limns and with love each lime She lines.
The dawn sky looks like a fertilized egg… sending forth tentacles of
red life… soon to crack the shell of night
With the stretching lilac bush
the sun has kept his appointed tryst
In her his blaze glows as stained glass
or anointed amethyst
Daybreak ray ribbons…in the stream broken ..rippling…
goldfish bread nibbling
The snowman fell in love with the sun queen but around her changed into a puddle.
Falling sunbeam took home as he kissed…
tendrils of rising mornmist
From dreams’ reverie and night’s revelry ….
summoned by dawn’s reveille
It is only where there are waves that the dawn sun makes a yellow-light fishing net upon the water… but this is a nonviolent net…which suffocates none… giving them all the energy to be free.
Before Himself the sun.. Before His Presence Come His Spirit Rays His ribboned Presents.
Before The Giver Come His Gifts Before the Great Forgiver Come the ForeGifts
The camels gave some of their carafes to the desertcrossing
Sue is all generous. She is sui generis
The tree’s branched plumes hold her purple plums while deeper into earth her rainward roots plumb.
The tide inrushes to nurse the bulrushes. Streams water meadows
where the bull rushes
The invisible vine of heaven… with endless large brightberried stars
Snowbibbing, peachbobbing, twigbobbling, babbling, bubbling, burbling brook seaward bound
Beauty is not acting.. yet is He all-attracting
Some said that Francis from Assisi was a coward ..was a sissy
until the day they watched the maneating Wolf of Gubbio kneel at his feet
Dandelion spheres…Each ball made of spores
Each seed without fear floats away from his core
Courageous parachutists each making the jump…
pioneers floating to worlds new..alighting with nary a bump
Rulemakers ordained that the morning light and the river
water… take 1 step at a time down the waterfall. Both ignored the law
as one downspilled and the other downpoured.
Angel winds forever rustle the Crow’s Great Spirit feathers
Said the wind to the rose, “Bee is not a humbug, merely a humming bug.”
She chainsawed down a row of septuagenarian pines… I walked up the driveway
as a birds’ nest, now empty, rolled toward me.
Filbert pearls from forests unpurloined. Nut trees give all to all
Who can steal the free?
One day soon the crown jewel pears lying on wood’s moss velvet
will be ignited by rainrods and sunbeam sceptres.
Tiny acorn germination.. greatoaks the German nation.
Wellwater through root.. upwells through stem flute..
until it swells in the music of fruit.
Where has gone evening’s light ochre? into the leaves of the okra
into the blooming orchids
On the shore near kind ones, nests are built by will of wasps
Amongst the lacy willow’s wisps one can spy the will o wisps
Great clouds sift…Silent and swift…
their flaky gifts…into fluffy snowdrifts
Do weeds with their fragile jade tendrils
have more eminent domain,,than the gravestones marking places
in which Spirit does not remain
Down drip stalactites…crystallizing stalagmites..the hourglass growing
Angelic visions heaven born on our earth take form
She has taken infinite creek sips…has the mighty Mississip
River collects stream children as she grows as onward to the sea she goes. Many suns and stars she reflects Forgetting the past forward she flows.
Tara is the emptiness through which flute music pours. Tara is desireless.. the
zeros which multiply other numbers.
As cranes mind not the rain, detached yogis are beyond both pleasure and pain.
The writer was given a vision of the Grand Canyon.. its very
void attracting a rainbow which at sunrise arched from one end
of its glorious emptiness to the other, a giant polyhued wicket through which the
When the matchmaker Cupid becomes attracted is it love or cupidity?
In the sidewalk crack grew a clump of violets. The break had let in rays ultraviolet.
A jade curtain of willow fronds parts green earth from that of blue pond. A grey curtain of morning mist separates turquoise waters from blue sky. A more slender veil is at the portal hiding the paradise of the immortal.
Not for long do garish street lights block the shy stars of night. Fire sirens not for long
shroud the mornbird’s chorus song. The eclipsed moon glows as the clouds pass on.
And the whispers of God… roar through eternity.
There is lifeless symmetry in the gates to the cemetery and lifeless symmetry in the
teeth gates to a carnivore’s stomach cemetery.
River ice births ice floes. From their rims melted water flows. The ice remains while
Onward water goes. Thus with bodyleaving. Some back to God soar.
Others held by cold desires stay on earth.. neath sun fire.
His opinions of the existence…of hellfire were absolute..
until his near death experience… after that he knew there was…..
A raindrop quenches…a fruit fly’s lifespark… sending
her to better life
Sunrise on the horizon A Viking ship ablaze…
as a soul reclothes himself in earthly body.
Souls slip from bodyclothes. Actors leave the stage. Snowflakes melt in waterflow. Birds fly out of cage. Chambered nautilus moves
to bigger room. Wind blows the dandelion seeds The butterfly leaves his cocoon. Rivers flow into the sea.
Star Candles burn on the Sky Altar. Sooner or later all vestal
virgins falter. That is why these candles cannot be snuffed.
There is less iniquity where there’s not propinquity.
If tonight the stars called back their rays
and in their own beams themselves they arrayed
and to a private party they strayed… but, no, faithful they will stay
Romeo, sixteen, for loving Juliet .. charged
with a felony.
The sun has new spirea spun Next he crocheted chrysanthemums.
Sleeping Beauty seed of camelllia lies slumbering in her ebony bed..
awaiting the kiss of the solar king…to awaken and yawn…
and then unfold her limbs to wear her robes
of pink or orange or white or gold
The shining blaze of Jupiter starred the tips of juniper while neath the wedded luminaries
out spark the blooms in Aries
The bees come to sup….the liquid sunup….from the brimming buttercup
What did the one legged heron remind his
brothers..? that in the skies of spirit they were meant to fly
Sometimes the iceberg goes drip drip drip.. slowly letting go. At other times like Beethoven’s 5th
there is a drip drip drip crash….a sudden silent cataclysm.. as a whole icesheet falls into the sea
2 former competitors for the same man, not yet aware of their eternal spirit love for each other
were yet bound by their love for him
As a trespassing bear’s snow pawprints near a beehive’s storehouse.. does the sun melt away
so does forgiveness the data banks of the past erase without a resenting trace
leaving one free to write new love
Ha! Ha! Ha! said the devil “Long ago to me you sold your soul for gold!” but only vows are legal which are made with GOD Those made under duress are buried neath sod
To ridicule with a mention a sad man’s dimensions.. retards ones own soul’s quicker ascension.
Does each member of the vice squad see GOD in the unclad Godiva?
Within the husk are bright seeds containing future gold fields of corn.
Just so God grows joy’s bright kernels inside the husks of cruel scorn
He writes our sins upon the sand. Engraves our virtues in each stone.
Washes our errors from the land and magnifies our good in the Heart Of God.
Vowbreakers: Zeus with
next with Calypso
FORM AND FORMLESS
Light leaves the form of the flame… It no longer belongs to the candle parent who continues to glow
Glowing flame within lightbulb… like yellow feathers of imprisoned bird
More than the rosepink window in Notre Dame we love the unfiltered sun…bathing us from many directional beams of light…no media interfering or interpreting
Government whales.. time to release all innocents….including
Jonah pot smokers
Stabled horse..Life of slavery Jailed in concentration camp
to give children rides
Ripe dandelion gave silent sermons on loosing
hold.. and of her seeds letting go
A traffic policewoman stands at a red light.. waving everyone through..
like visible grace from an invisible guardian angel.. turning all to green
A fire in the church belltower. Since the structure was made of stone and metal..not a single bell
to earth fell.
Waves smash into the rock, which creates seaspray.
Every drop sparkles with the sun’s rainbow rays…as the unconditionally loving turn blows into blessings for their attackers.
Does a field of sunflowers need to believe in the sun? Will their
heads turn to watch Him? Will they grow toward Him whether or
not they are agnostic sunflowers?
Evicted from their home cloisters …trillions of innocent oysters
giving hepatitis and anaphylactic shock when deprived of their sea moisture
Tears of pain.. in anger’s heat… turned to the steam, the fuel of her soul train
A reflecting lake or mirror or all-Present listening ear
has no campaign button, no cross, no symbol for Om, no Buddhist wheel, nor
star and crescent between him or herself and someone in pain
Today I saw a website of colors with 100 gradations of gray
.. more than for any other hue…the webmaster must be blue
Through his telescope he sipped
the Almondmilky Way.
His heart was a mansionwith infinite free chambers. His heart was a hotel open 24 hours.
Young souls are hard sour and green fruit. Old souls are soft and sweet and pink
Nyctitropic plants toward the darkness curl as in pain does the soul
into inward God unfurl
The mercy rain follows dry river bed hollows Soon are new shallows .. then deeps which all hallow.
MUSIC AND ART
Should one say “if you won’t vivisect a tree.. don’t critique poetry”?
Should a poet spirit be confined to the 5-7-5 police of haiku restraints? Who but God can revoke poetic license?
Western guitars Eastern sitars Melodies from each rise to the stars
Above us seven birds on a bowed branch.. seven notes of a score….. visible melody
As a parent with unconditional love for a Godsent handicapped child
so poets often keep alive their imperfectly formed creations.
The storm orchestra’s clashing cymbals…transcend weatherman’s
sunny day symbols
Mercy Rain is quiet today… her drops more silently than iceskaters inscribing
circles in the lake. Yesterday she was happily tapdancing on the tin roof.
Some perfect poems are brief yet contain all like a raindrop imaging the morning star
.. an unshelled nut holding 1000 forests.. the eyes of someone in love
Is it crime to pour acid on garden saplings or critique art?
Can the meadowlark
withdraw her song.. does it to
the whole world belong?
She pours white onto her palate..turning some red to pink
some blue to aquamarine…making saffron from orange
and lime from kelly green…as her love as well..
lifts blacks and grays…from auras each day
Some did accuse his muse of being on and off
in inspiring the great Rachmaninoff.
For his music he needed no muse. Always on… was Rachmaninoff.
Paganini’s violin did maelstroms ferment in souls’ firmament
and others’ raintears to fall
Where is the Moses rod sent now by God
to yield water from all stone hearts
Dawn’s pastels are stirring among silent star-rings.. each day’s birth ever sun-starring,,
.. with His quiet ways startling no sparrow or starling
Water does not impose its will upon the banks or the walls of well
unless it in flood swells…unless it in outrage upwells.
The mother cow appealed to human judges that her baby had been murdered… but
they were biased, having themselves devoured the evidence.
Eternal chain of kindness: From a stranger the hunter peasant received a heartfelt
surprise gift most pleasant and so to the trapped and frightened pheasant
he granted life as a present
Hidden mad cow incidence… their bones murdered into.. gelatin of marshmallows. Some restaurant french fries cooked in lard. From murdered sheep it is called tallow. Cast off shells of assassinated clams… gather in the cemetery shallows. Trillions of pigs have been
electroshocked or pitchforked as they fought against the gallows. How many humans follow the God Who all His creation hallows.
November: that avicidal time of year.. a time of utter depravity
when some will gut the murdered bird and stuff the resulting cavity
Voiceless powerless clams cannot for protection from fishermen clamor
Captive camels carry their humans.. but not to an oasis Camelot
They arrive at an auction.. a camel lot
After years of service to be sold or eaten… that is the camel’s lot.
Descartes has gone down in history as a great philosopher who said
“I think.. therefore I am”. In that life he nailed dogs’ paws to the table so that they could not escape his knife in his ‘research’ lab.
Descartes.. may have thought but had no heart.
The war of the roses is over. The daisies grow by the clover.
In all the land.. marsh, field, woods and sand..Angelswords of Passover
fly oer Cliffs of Dover while the red roses in peace grow by white.
I was pulled by the light of the stars into a kinder way of eating. It took the combined
efforts of pluto, uranus, jupiter and venus to drag this recalcitrant one into not devouring
Is calling a commercial or animal research facility housing kidnapped confined dolphins
a dolphinarium like naming the solitary confinement cell in a maximum security prison
Chicago cattle futures.. oxymoron? Do we give them a future?
After being murdered and subdivided their lots were divided…bull horns were sent to the East
pig hooves to the dog food plant, cat entrails to makers of violins, horse hair to chairmakers
sheep flesh to the canneries, cows’ skins to the tanneries
Each enslaved farm animal being fattened up for the kill is a Hansel or Gretel
Salmon is a pretty color but saffron says it better. Salmon a choked fishie’s shroud..while saffron is a pastel cloud.
In Mark 16: 15, Jesus did not say …to preach to every nation.
Jesus said.. to preach to all creation.
St Sebastian deer pierced by arrows. St Lawrence lobster boiled alive.
St Paul cow.. decapitated. St Peter cat, impaled on a laboratory cross.
What of the spies who see a field of
their dead foes… as the rubble of rebel rabble
Angler fixating…on fish-asphyxiating…fell into water
Chandler’s candle containing lard..yet the spirit flame
…despite darker smoke transcends sweet pig’s pain.
Made of cow intestines the violin strings… even so with sweetness ring. The spider-devouring nightingale’s song… yet her throat
delights the throng
There are more prunes where there is no pruning.
Trillions dead: Animals killed for dinner tables. Animals trapped for brutal sable.
Animal flesh ads on hawkish cable. Sellout ‘scientists’ put out fish oil fables.
Caged animals hidden neath college gables. Pig lard obscured in canned good labels.
ONE PLUS ONE IS ONE
Long before their minds did merge their 2 hearts melded, beating faithfully as
Matthew 7: 7
Whatever your petition God brings to fruition .. You will ever be reconciled,
reunited, .. reborn, requited
Because each loves the other unconditionally, the ball is always in each’s
court, the first
move always an imperative for both.
The bee zigzags ambling ‘mong roses rambling.. here and there..everywhere
.. but when his sacks are laden straight his faithful way home to his queen
Each night stars were screwed into their blissful sockets. Each night comets flew….most ecstatic
rockets. While hung on night’s throat the moon…a shimmering shining locket
Desiring only to slip into the sun’s cozy heart pocket.
Thinking on Him becomes my watery gate to sleep through which I leave body waves
for His soul’s ocean deeps
of you a sudden sight …as if a flock of birds.. were to lift a kite
and soar it to realms of delight
So random and stupid seem the arrows of Cupid but the Lords of Karma remember past dharma
Eternal valentine I am thine. Long ago your heart mine did entwine.
The rose of the heart …unfolds her petals slowly…one two or three in each life
How does the lily grow? In sweet tranquility…most tranquilily
Whenever he puts his hand on his Heart, he touches Peace Itself
Drone polycidal bombers launched by navy captains
Giving emotional support for the crimes: silent military chaplains
“High” court judges become as calcified as their marble courtrooms.
Some worry about split infinitives
while atoms in deserts are split to infinity
and bombs split bones away from infants.
Robins weave nests under the eaves. The woodpecker sculpts
a nave. The eagle takes crags none others desire The winter bear lives in a cave.Tunnels the gopher before resting in loafers.
The raccoon in tree branches rests. Storks in kind people’s chimneys dwell but the cuckoo steals others’ nests.
It used to be that a prolife governor or Supreme Court nominee could support sending the boys off to war..and chaining prisoners to the electric chair and enabling hunters’ murder of moose and b’ars and still count on the votes of the prolife stars……May it be no longer.
With each other the stars do not fight, do not war.
Nor is there any fear amongst orbiting spheres.
Neither do they care which have the brightest glow
nor which the shortest path round sun to go
Every thought or word or verse is either a benediction or a curse.
We have the power to discourage art, hurt a heart, quench a candle,
smash a hope, uproot a sapling…unplug joy..
derail a child…with 1 or 7..unkind words.
Trains of Destiny cannot be derailed
Those who wish upon a star…the Star of The Third Eye find all their dreams come true
As streams leaping beyond mountain waterfalls
are summoned through meadows to the ocean’s call
all graduate into God
A half sun on dawn’s sea’s horizon.. yet we know the other half will soon be rising
In the same way do we know even greater power will soon be Elizaing
Is it the mirror’s rejection of our light projections which causes the mirroring, the reflection?
The sun is not at all wet though into the sea he dips.
The moon arises out of the bay and yet she doesn’t drip.
The moon’s whitewash by sea did bleach the gold sands of the beach
and did on highland blanch the crimson petaled branch
Scars have turned to stars, the cross to crown, the rejected rock to temple cornerstone.
The metal resoldered is stronger than its original. Wings have emerged from cocoon.
The most sacred place.. where foes have reconciled.
The crown exists before the queen.* The green tiara which clasps the tomatoes precedes them in form as our queenship and kingship in union with God is ordained from the beginning of time.
The April fern as yet unfurled…coiled and curled
ready forth to spring with the woundup power of resurrected spring
Where do shattered dreams go? Their bright shards are gathered by angel guards to become shining arcs in resurrected rainbows
Around Golgotha’s empty gallows a surrounding light which all hallows
God, the weaving Master, has made manifest purple asters… a teaching to brocaded pastors.
The lighthouse which guards from rocks The star which guides by night
The compass needle pointing north The foghorn calling through the mist
The Shepherd’s gentle calling voice The ship arriving upon the horizon
The Healer’s touch of grace The pathfinder through trees’ maze
.. sent by the infinite love of God in which we are always immersed
War profiteer cartels are called The United States by warwhore news teams. Everywhere including peace loving Schenectady the American people dislike such synecdoches.
The ice storm has made crystal balls around each berry… but unproven is the precognition
of the translucent spheres
He uncloseted his skeletons. They’d been ripping his clothes.
Lest his editor’s red pen become a red sword…. he limited his critiques to a very few.
While bees are bibbing from buttercup blooms, stones in the babbling brook help Baba blow bubbles for babies.
He needn’t reach the stars.. stars’ light reaches him.. He needn’t climb to God. Inside him .. Elohim.
Oxymorons: a. Fresh meat, fresh fish b. hawkish follower of Baba c. professor of bioethics
at an animal research university
Because he was an anarchist, the ignorant thought him an antichrist.
Some thought it sacrilege when Joan gave communion to dogs. Yet was it not the sacred
entering the sacred. Are All Creatures of the Creator One with their Maker?
A greater miracle than His turning seeds into grapestudded vines..greater than His
turning water into wine.. is what He does hastened or in time
in each heart chalice turning hatred into love divine
The Buddhists who dwelt near the Palace named Duk Soo…
ate no skewered dog flesh…. and no duck soup.
Mother Earth has her will mustered to grow more seeds of golden
My teacher was surrounded by a circle of His followers. He suddenly teleported for them from the Tower of London the crown jewels of the Queen, jewels stolen from India during the 150 years of British occupation. He passed them around the circle and then… rather than reclaiming them for their rightful land, He teleported them back to the Tower of London.
All the mockers, nailers, whippers, crucifiers making hard crosses
from His bending firs .. everyone in time turns crucifer
Born to certain credos with the rocking of the cradle Some from the time of the crib
will be wed to Quran Others to the Bhagavad Gita, Pali sutras of Buddha, the Torah, the Bible
Is God Love? Are we God’s creations? Are we each made of Love by
the God of Love?
How do we know that Jesus threw the butchers out of the temple
as He overturned the tables?
Once they put down the coins they’d received, the moneychangers
picked up the knives… to kill the most innocent… the lambs and the doves.
“My house is a house of prayer. You have made it a den of thieves ” ……….
Woods of pine pinnacles…grounded by root tentacles.. sparrows do minuets…in spruce minarets
The dousing wand ..The lightning rod …Conductor’s baton ..Will’s aligned spine
They find the water…invoke the lightning… attract the music and summon angels’ aid.
Waves break the lightway across the waters into pieces
but he maintained his way and found again the path to peace
The queen of diamonds, the hearts’ deuce…can no longer him seduce
We need not climb endless intervening mountains The river will lead us home to the sea. We need not show monumental will. God’s path is of surrender love and humility.
Faster than 1000 brooms the Wind has swept. As He passed trees their petals wept.
The wind has swayed the bonnets of the blooms faster than a million hatteries
Left for Chicago is to Mr and Mrs Paul Obis, Clare Barrett
Crown jewel pears is to J Freundschuh
24 hour hotel to Mitch Snyder of the Community For Creative Nonviolence
Lord of Luminescence is to Emma Pride Wood, for 14 years a prisoner of St Elizabeth’s Hospital
Matthew 7: 7 is to Mimi
Startling No Starling is to C and S Harman
Heart pocket is to Nancy and Ed L
Lighthouse Compass is to B Taipale.. a teacher of divine love
Cuckoo is a reference to the presidencies of Al Gore and John Kerry
which were stolen by 5 unelected men on the “Supreme” Court
and by Republican owned ‘voting machine’ companies.
Courageous Parachutists is to Richard Wilbur whose Two Voices In A Meadow awakened my love of poetry
Sleeping Beauty Camellia is to Helen Hill
Sui Generis is to Sue V
War of Roses is over is to Helen Schaffer who pointed out to her visiting
Texas son the roses of both hues
Crow Feathers is to Russell Crowe… may he abandon cattle raising.
World Class Artist (turning intense colors into pastels) is to
Woolgather, UK poet and artist
Hand on His Heart is to Peter Yehl
Mighty Mississip is to master poet ArcticBreeze
Re “the crown exists before the queen”… it is time for the British government to return
the crown jewels stolen from India
Forgive the male adjectives for God.. who is beyond gender.
Our brains are hardwired to be critical. What is loving, pure, joyful flows through. It
is what is not which sticks onto our neurons like barnacles on a ship. Yogananda said
of Gnana Mata that “she never said an unkind word, nor even thought an unkindness”.
Now when I find myself making a critical mental list, I catch myself and begin to
repeat my favorite name for God, visualizing grace being given to the subject of my
critique litany. I have a friend who decided to pray for someone who was giving her
constant opposition. That night in a dream the foe came to her with the gift of a solution
to a mathematical problem she was encoutering.
Wish Upon A Star: Footnote: ( Matthew 6: 22
if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.)
Dawn Sky looks like fertilized egg… I stopped eating them when I cracked one onto
the hot metal and saw a skillet full of blood, a beak, and claws.