I can never see/hear enough Beauty,
for if I saw/heard it All,
I would be seeing/hearing You, again.

Prayer. Joy. Native American style flutes-six years, before COVID, playing in our local hospitals, for patients, new-born babies and Moms, staff.

Mosquito’s acute, squeaky whisper tickles the ear. He sounds distinctly insecure as he interrupts the man. Mosquito starts slowly, poetically explaining that love is a lake, and when you throw a stone in it, it makes ripples in the water, and those ripples make waves. After another stone is thrown into the lake, the energy is combined. The lake glows, and colors spurt out from its center. They go as fast as shooting stars, and fly to the center of the universe, serving as the pump, spinning from the energy. Everything spins around the stars, until it all goes back into the lake, where it all becomes one single condensed ball, and then explodes back into a million colors all traveling faster than light, and energy. Mosquito speaks quickly now. He speaks of things like glowing spheres with chubby faces, smiling so big that their eyes look like squints. They have to squint because they are traveling faster than light, but they are smiling, they are happy. They form pairs, and grow fat, and fill with liquid until it seeps from their pouches, and drips on their siblings. Then they combine and transform until they have feathers and wings, and they swoop down to the valley below and watch over the plants and rivers. They put the raindrops in leafs, they put the sap in trees, and they return to the center of the earth, where they are embraced by thousands of little sparkling white dots. They eventually regain their strength they fly back to the hole where they were born. 

Followers of Archeri