& into the house of creation The blood red hearth of souls liberated into flesh. [supernal specula] Everything has a soul. and So we are all in the bEarthing
By Michaelyn Logue4 years ago in Poets
fine strings i find i am plucking with uncertain fingers. Rain-bowed spiders’ silk — I don’t know this music anymore. My favorite sing along.
There is a German word that means the Green Light emanating from an Oak tree. Can you see it? Her sweeping branches kissed in golden hue.
