brightened by celestial rays, i move fluidly, welcoming silken droplets to cleanse me of superstitions and preconceptions.
the frame of a woman is the embodiment of absolution. of perfection. the unscathed contours of her sunrise and the ample rotundity of her planetary curvature.
i trek meaningfully through windstorms and fiercely through tsunamis, inevitably enjoying and communicating with the Woman. always alone, incessantly welcoming the company of my own Being.
the Silence — it pulsates and transforms, beating perpetually deep into my eardrums and permeating my core.
i’ve become my own Best Friend.
and in the silence the trees resonate unconditional love with the luminous green they emit and sustenance they supply. the leaves rustle alongside a breeze’s whisper as heavy clouds gather overhead to nourish soils. the trees deliberate their plan for survival. their roots, which deeply penetrate the fertile Woman, extend toward one another, creating unity and ultimate immunity. they are united.
in the silence, a raven or a dove alike are messengers. your attention will uncover the secrets they desire to reveal to you.