Prose, Narratives, Etcetera, Can Carry Healing. Poetry

The Wolf Is Living For The Earth.

Stilled Legendary Depth: It Was As Deep As England. It Held Pike Too Immense To Stir, So Immense And Old That Past Nightfall I Dared Not Cast.

One Day God Felt He Ought To Give His Workshop A Spring Clean... It Was Amazing What Ragged Bits And Pieces Came From Under His Workbench As He Swept. Beginnings Of Creatures, Bits That Looked Useful But Had Seemed Wrong, Ideas He'd Mislaid And Forgotten... There Was Even A Tiny Lump Of Sun. He Scratched His Head. What Could Be Done With All This Rubbish?

But Who Is Stronger Than Death? Me , Evidently .

The Brassy Wood-pigeons Bubble Their Colourful Voices, And The Sun Rises Upon A World Well-tried And Old.