Trees And Plants Always Look Like The

Gods Always Behave Like The People Who Make Them.

Magic Is Older Than Writing. So Nobody Knows How It Started.

From Barren Brown Stems To Glistening Leaf-buds; From The Leaf-buds To Snowy Virginity Of Bloom…it Was Like A Flute Song Forgotten In Another Existence And Remembered Again. What? How? Why? This Singing She Heard That Had Nothing To Do With Her Ears. The Rose Of The World Was Breathing Out Smell. It Followed Her Through All Her Waking Moments And Caressed Her In Her Sleep.

Ships At A Distance Have Every Man's Wish On Board. For Some They Come In With The Tide. For Others They Sail Forever On The Same Horizon, Never Out Of Sight, Never Landing Until The Watcher Turns His Eyes Away In Resignation, His Dreams Mocked To Death By Time. That Is The Life Of Men. Now, Women Forget All Those Things They Don't Want To Remember, And Remember Everything They Don't Want To Forget. The Dream Is The Truth. Then They Act And Do Things Accordingly.

Most Things Are Born In The Mothering Darkness And Most Things Die. Darkness Is The Womb Of Creation, My Boy. But The Sun With His Seven Horns Of Flame Is The Father Of Life.