A droning dream summons me. I have just been informed that I am challenging love. I’m not, I’m being challenged by love. Love encompasses my every step. Love is traced from my lips up to my eyes. Love. Love. Love. It is I who has failed love. Love’s been more patient than was called for. Exhausted of my misuse and ready for my return to her care. I must not tarry long in my glee of heaven, I’ve plenty of time to celebrate after I’ve loved through action. I'm unable to imagine my fate. I can only believe in what my feeble mind believes that my kind has done- war, hatred, death, rape, the useless work of belief over truth. Love deserves better. ~ I need open my eyes, brothers and sisters! Love waits for my senses to come around to the earth. She calls to me beneath the loam, calls to me with an urgent sway, begging that I take my home’s hand and dance evermore, recall my beginning, my birth through perfection. Remember your promises to life and you serve love. The perfecti...
(The Weaver's Song)