Saturday, August 30, 2008

Weather's shifting. May the winds begin to blow.

A moment of silence. Oh John and Sarah! May your raft drift off shore far from rescue and further drilling. May all who care for the planet and care for us all, make a mighty wind to set adrift their crumbling craft.
May they land on some distant unknown island, to be kept together safely, away from further dragging the globe toward head on catastrophe.

And as the weeks esued, the breeze did began to stir. From all sides people began to look around themselves as if a turning point was forming.
Here, afternoons and evenings, first 20, 40, 80 giant prehistoic turkey buzzards kite and twirl; more each day. They are Raven clan I believe.
Else where, walls are crumbling. Nervous people, hedging on large concerns, whimper nights about a shakey furure they helped create.

1 comment:

  1. From your mouth to goddess's ears!


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