Love–dirt of the earth, dust of me

Most creation stories talk about me coming from dirt of the earth.  And I believe that all there is, is love stuff.  Therefore, I am good shit.  Well, that’s what all of this is–fertilizer, nourishment, dead tree stumps serving as mothers for new growth.

Thus my tears of leaving, homage to the story of loss and goodbyes, are all nourishing waters for the seed within me to plant in the garden of the Angels.

Here in soaring uncertainty and whirling feelings is my truest love of here and now.  It’s just all dressed up and dancing a swan song.  I’d rather choose the dance of veils where my Dear One giggles through the flowing scarves, undulating and singing Her siren song.

Ah yes, there is the face of Love that rises out of the dirt and green of the forest to me.  Now I can continue with my jitterbugging tap dance–constant here and now change.

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