Something about the first real
snow storm of the season following on the heels of a
DreamTime fraught with Controversy.
And something about all those lonely realms
where I travel in Solitary Circles
wending my way through narrow, numinous Gaps.
These are the Gaps where Mystics meet
and speak without words.
In those narrow gaps Tears are traded as currency.
Gold
The truest form of Matter,
GoldenTears become like the stars that You scatter,
Magical Whispers, upon needy souls longing for Real.
But still...I'm sad today.
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