IT IS TIME There comes a timesomewherein the midst of June. When Mother Earthshakes outher blanket of warmsweet existence. Whispering, it is time. Queue the rhythmicsounds of bees;busily pollinatingeverything in sight. And everythingis as it should be.
It is in thebeginning of waiting andnot knowing, wesuffer most. Whenunanswered questions; perilously hangin the air. Kúkwstum̓ckacw / Thank you for reading.