A short time ago...

"...a wind rider dropped down to drink from my mouth. As he rose to swallow I could see his opened beak and ruffled neck. Here he comes again! I hope he stays for I am lonely."

you see, what was once shorn and alone exposed so delicate to an eye is not, no more as that. for now those shorne are wreathed with green and shielded by renewal, by life, by continuance.

to see that shrine now, vice then, one might exclaim that then could never have been but, rather, was a dream of what might be, would be, could be, must be with much luck and godspeed, yes.

those coniferons are shielded safe now from this and that as Others go about their mission of guarding imaginations and consequence dancing Yes to Life and that which is forever beyond the ken of Them.

so thick is the shield...so complete the Guarding. One would never know the shrine to be, there, forever. is this not the every day, the Guarding, the Shielding from true what Is? Are we nought but dreamers in a personal fantasy imagining that we are the all..? oh yes, say they...oh yes...such is...oh yes, this too will pass gods bless the Wiccans to explain.

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