It’s home here. I don’t care what they say.
It’s safe here... for me. The pull between mother and child, it is repaired. The youngest one, considered lost is found in the star that captures and contains and nurtures the others. It is not to fear that the mother harvests and offers you up to the you that you choose to become. In the garden below, it is safe... for me. It is safe because I’ve perceived what was not just sold in the ray of light, but the beat in the waves below. The others are the eyes of everything. The others have the I’s that are mature and ready, they are not separated up top by the tiers that make each degree it’s own person. Head on straight, we are the sea. We are at see. We hold the sight that frightens those who are only up in day. There’s much more. There’s a full life, and the full scope of the existence both day and night, both life and death. Though she knows that you have things to do here in the light, the he within compartmentalizes the space and time for you to do this. Do it. So that no pockets are made, no traps are set and so that you are ready to complete with all of your pieces.