Life redux.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Goraffe which turns out to be a perfect cauldron of prehistoric containment. Aplace to let the  womb's rivers and currents flow. Till one becomes nothing more than a small cell in a round spot. A place to lay stresses and burdens low; and be completely held in this massive womb of circles of prehistoric energy that swim out about you. Concentric spots of forever. A cradle. Its a strange place, little and earthy and barren it would seem on the surface, but with strange sides and fables invisibly etched in. A bright high low place filled with little strange witchy women, half small , all mad, full greyed and wild knowing, with catty eyes that break into half knowing smiles. I met them in their various forms, the ones that appeared from nowhere with small four legged familiars in tow; scratching about under tables full of wanting and loving and know. I wondered how such wisdom had survived in this second rule of man, and how these women in particular had found in themselves...