Flowering on La Isla,

Reaching and stretching and yearning for fresh expression,

Yearning for aligned waterfalls and rivers to wash away the tears,

Yearning for mysterious clouds, mirrors and metaphor,

To sweep away poisonous skies,

Beckoning, with open arms, the new tendrils of the flower of life,

To soothe the parched skin of this exhausted land,

And to invite those who suffered, entwined with Gaia for so long,

For so long, an eternity,

For so long with weary limbs and spent wings,

Yearning for deliverence to Avalonia's bright new paradigm,

To lay heads gently on sweet moss of repose,

And hear the crystalline chorus of celestial sylphs softly on the breeze,

In harmony with bird and haunting whale song,

Weaving a new reality,

With a thousand lotus petals, vibrant now.

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