I was a child of earth, so I was small. I buried my toes in her balmy debris of stone and quartz; bereft of what has left. Apollo, lounging in his royal throne, blinded my sight with sweet sharp arrows. Yet, neither small nor unavailing, a child’s soul is a universe. We can fly behind closed eyes. Although one might never really know, the Olympians could have once been made of flesh and bone. We don’t need Aeolus by our side; we can flow wherever the Anemoi go. How eccentric that beyond this spherical wall there is both the mystery and the secret of time and riches. Levitate. Drink the neon elixirs that the majestic universe has poured since they cause no harm; and accept vitality and charm. Strip you clothes and deliver yourself naked just the way it wants you; it has no eyes. While mothers are meant to let go, trust we will the bohemian drunk to take us to places we have never seen before. Immortal is the boundless cosmic child. –Nayla …