Left to herself, nature is always more or less civilized, and delights
in a certain refinement; but where the axe has encroached upon the edge
of the forest, the dead and unsightly limbs of the pine, which she had
concealed with green banks of verdure, are exposed to sight.
“They say a good love is one that sits you down, gives you a drink of
water, and pats you on top of the head. But I say a good love is one
that casts you into the wind, sets you ablaze, makes you burn through
the skies and ignite the night like a phoenix; the kind that cuts you
loose like a wildfire and you can't stop running simply because you keep
on burning everything that you touch! I say that's a good love; one
that burns and flies, and you run with it!”
The music and voices are all around us.
Choose they croon the Ancient Ones
The time has come again
Choose now, they croon
Beneath the moon
Beside an ancient lake
Enter again the sweet forest
Enter the hot dream
Come with us
Everything is broken up and dances.