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There I was, a long-haired white boy sitting on a picnic tablet balanced on the back of a 65 AMC Nash Rambler station wagon slowly driving from my aunt's old federal style brick house named Sugar Hill located just a short drive from the eastern shore of Lake Champlain. My heart brother , Adrain, is sitting on the other side and my Eskimo friend, Gyver, is in the middle. The Rambler is driving itself slowly, but smoothly past the fields of rye and camomille bordered by blue aster and brown-eyed Susans growing on the shoulders of the primary asphalt road. I hadn't seen the old Rambler in 35 years, but here it is today faithfully taking me and my beloveds to our home as the afternoon fades from golden sunlight into the fool's dawn. With the darkling of evening flows in the cool humid air heavily scented with Queen Ann's lace and honey suclke accompanied by the music of cicadas and frogs.
This is my heart's true release. It is simple with nothing but the flow of peace, love, light, life and sanctuary. Can you feel it? I hope you can. Come sit down by me. There's plenty of room on the picnic table. Close your eyes, Lean against me and watch the scenery pass by
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Love and affirmation, Forrester Tongpa Nyi (formerly Ash Phoenix, faeries evolve! ) ![]() When you come to know that your entitlement to joy is a given, All that remains is the exploration of the many different ways to let it in
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