[142.26] 1219
Dreamweaver - age 30
Dreamweaver - age 30
“To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather
than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion, to be worthy, not respectable,
and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly,
to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart, to bear all
cheerfully, to all bravely await occasions, hurry never. In a word, to let the
spiritual unbidden and unconscious grow up through the common. This is to be my
symphony,” so he said and paused in contemplation.
"But do you believe?" she asked, looking at the
stars laced before them.
"Perhaps. The mind in me is defiant; the soul in me is
silent." He could not think as clearly when he revelled in the imagination
of the known. All pathways lead them to the one point, the one source: Me.
"Perhaps, it must be this way if we are to be here to
experience wonder." She could dream between the same pathways and was side-blinded
by the void of variables for this entity known as Me.
“Together then,” he grinned at her and adjusted his thinking hat.
"Shall we?" he gave a slight bow, his eyes locked with hers in that eternal moment of equanimity.
"Shall we?" he gave a slight bow, his eyes locked with hers in that eternal moment of equanimity.
“Why not?” she smiled, placed her right hand in his proffered left, and stretched out her wings.
