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Our Ark continues to be built, In secret of course with hands of love and patience, In the materials of the salvation of our lives that we cannot see, Only feel and sense. The seeds are all planted. Now we water them, send our dearest nurture to their little Heartlings' sweet unfoldment, Held in the Wombed soil Warmed and weeded by the Highest of the High We see not the shoot nor the flower But the food is the Best There Is. The Gardeners grow a future of ecstatic harvest Where none has ever been. Feel the movement in the ground. The ground of Body. Look for the green It is coming up. copyright 1997-2002 Panjoyah |