We, humankind, are noteworthy in that we are able to craft our own reality. That’s animal, what of the spirit? Does she benefit from our abstention? Will she allow her own death? Will Love allow the spirit to vanquish itself? If we succeed with our current method we will have not slain Love, we will have forsaken Love’s most precious gift, life eternal, the (H)eartH, Love. Why would Love knowingly commit suicide? For that matter, why would Love make the most perfect creation ever known that sustains eternal life’s fluidity for only a select number of souls? (Again, why would Love commit suicide?) Love’s not dying, we are. Each trace of manmade things that taint the earth cause time to slip, days come swift. Having failed Creation, Life, Love, The Mother, the Grandmother, the Great Granmother, we won’t even be able to recognize ourselves. It is not Love that is to blame for our penalty, we shaped it of fear, of our imaginings and nightmares instead of our dreams. Creation did not
(The Weaver's Song)