Harvest Time.

There was once a planet all baron and bare,

It took the eyes of the Creator our maker and potter to find a life for those who he wanted to give birth into goodness ; so happy, full of love , with all the glory of the fresh air.

The creation from desolate, dark and lonely, he shed light to make it holy.

A sanctuary of his own imagination of freedom from fear and despair, he replenished with tremendous power in the world of the art.

Only for the serpent who was taken in by the gods of the Nebula, to smite him in the face of he and his opening of his complex- yet simple vision of the heavenly realm ; Gail’s glorious future, laid bare in its own nature’s beauty.

The vines became infinitely more complex, putting his algorithm of love into the dance of those who were not yet able to reach his understanding of vortex.

He toiled with his vast array of instruments so we could subconsciously reach the subliminal rhythm of his songs, it is harvesting time from those pestilence of creeping thorns, the gods of old that influence the new, tainting and discolouring the view.

To make way for new, the weeds must now be plucked, before the sun can shine again, with the new energies of plumes.

Beautiful hornets for the garden to yet again flourish, let’s all thank the dancing rhythm of the Creator to allow us understanding, that love was all it required right from the beginning of the plantation.

The pains of Labour and loss and destruction were all information technology that was needed for our future construction.