ancient and unborn
in the realm of That Which Is
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Hello. This post is about Death & Birds.
Of all the sacred texts, nature is my favourite—and in this season it has much to profess. There are many a proverb, drama and tragedy being told in the garden alone; not least via the ceaseless attempts at courting by the Wood Pigeons who, time and again, seem to be faced with merciless rejection; in spite of their impressive invitational bows and hops. May we all know their perseverance.