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| Morning Fog by � goeswith3faces The first sunbeams touches Mother Earth and let Father Sky burning in a sea of red flames of love. The morning-fog rises from Mother Earth to Father Sky like the smoke of a mighty conflagration. The camp dogs inquire curiously the eternity of small dewdrops, which lay over the grass like a blanket of crystals. The ponies start moving and their silent snorting and neighing takes the people softly back from the land of dreams and visions into the empire of the morning. Small threads of smoke rises from yesterday�s campfires. The soft sound of the night guard�s flute reaches the camp and calls tenderly his love. The sun shines in her window and fills the room with light. Noises from the street reach her ears, cars hooting, somewhere in town the horn of a police car and people�s talking on the streets. She wakes up, enchanted to now by the wonderful scene of old days, she has to make herself ready for work. Before she leaves her flat she looks at the medicine wheel that is hanging over her bed and a smile brightens her face. Is it magic that Creator does not leave her alone, not even in the world of wasicu? When she entered the street she still smells the campfires and the freshness of dawn left her a good morning kiss on her cheeks� Is it magic? In Great Respect to all lives on Mother Earth ~ Goes-with-three-faces ~ |
