Tears fall out from under my slow footsteps on the soft moss. Handprints of love on each passing barked tree. Sunlight pouring down and kissing me. Leaves of green, glistening in every shade any artist would fall into a dreamers spell. Calling birds break the silence and bekon you further into the wild. The slience is not silent, it is rythem, breath and beating of the earth beneath, around, within and among. Our breath is deep ans powerful, peaceful and at one with all that is. Here in this bliss, the garden of eternity, earth our home mother waits patiently for our nourishing return home, the wild.