Woodlore

Angebote / Angebote:

Here comes the songs of the Mother, earthbound melodies woventogether like a storm in spring.Hear them-the storytelling trees, the struggling soil of old, theloving leaves above the breaking branches, and the wailing creeksthat dried its throat out of grief.See them, in this parade they made for you.The folklores they whispered, and the feet that they welcomed.The love they proclaimed, and the fall that tormented them. Themourning they did the next morning, lamenting what once wasunbeknownst to death and eternal history. A disco ball with piecescontaining their own shape and reflections of what is born in thepast, lives in present, and will linger in the future. A beautifullybroken pieces of mirror puzzled together to reflect not only onereflection of emotion, and who owns them, but a manifold of it.The wonder, the misery, the bliss, the pain, and the eruption sangby you, or someone you know. By someone you will know, someoneyou want to know, someone who wants to know you, and someoneyou don't know and don't want to know at all.Out there, rivers became seas and seas grow into oceans, shipssinking and sailing, limbs swimming and drowning. But a shore ofmercy will appear, with thousands of sleeping seashells to tell youonce you wake them, to sing to you once you knew-you'll be outof the woods.With your gathered woodlore, you transform.