the trip advisor

That little green owl, a friendly cartoon with it's hornrimmed

eyes and the wisdom of ages twinkling, brings to mind the knowledge of

trees, bound in gold embossed sacred cow skins.

So many of us have spent hours that were but seconds studying the maps

of inner journey, finding the mire eventually easily leapable. Let's lift a

glass to eachother and share a secret smile.

There is much to be learned from the cartography; it is of course wisest

when exploring the surface images to fully acquaint oneself with the key.

The edges of the unrolled decorated representation form borders that hold

naught but starlight beyond, and while noteable as significant are not as

romantic as certain tragic historians would have one believe. Keep the

compass of the eight star as your close guide.

There is the ghost of a hand on every line moving and the beasts of

imagination rule here. One learns to throw bones like Vasilisa, oil the

screeching gate, be kind to cats, and why trees need our best ribbons.

Baba Yaga is drawn into the old forest skies, and has no power here,

begone as she is.

The geometric exactitude of our woven perfect puzzle complete

is the primary representation of utmost importance.

The great comfort of certainty and blissful laughter

sounds in the echoes of many true lovers gone before us.

A refreshing mother fountain of spirit beyond faith enters our

wondering eyes.

Beauty walks within us always here, we are reminded of our true

parentage.

This lovely map with it's deep colors, the rivers etched in blue-

is not the journey, the vehicle nor the driver, and will not function

as any of the above listed. Take heed.

Sooner or later, or perhaps every single moment,

the door invites you sweetly to step into certain stillnesses occurring

in the choreography of an endless dance, the library doors fading into the

distance, immersion in mystery painting your experience.

Happy trails to you, until we meet again.