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Eyes of a Dying Wolf

I looked through the eyes of a dying wolf to see fires flaming out our horizon as long as this wild wolf had seen. He saw a time when seizures were currencies of sorcerors, shamen and shawomen born of supremely loving matriarchs. Seizure medicine knew its own advent echoing sources speaking dreams of manna geese flying home for our first through last Win/Win Thanksgiving Day through fire extinguishing night. Thanksgiving Peace Dreams after fires and erupting volcanoes of seizures, and also before peace dreams of hope-fired relationships, responsible as authoritative Win/Win faith, respect for powers of multiculturing love over monoculturing fears of fires for volcanoed hate of gun-fires flaming out horizons. I looked through the eyes of a not yet dead wolf to see fires of restorative justice for Thanksgiving Days and Nights of Peace sweeping all Win/Win full-fired horizons of Wonder as Sacred Flaming Awe.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things