Leafy dropout skies bathing in the sun grabs momentum from still waters eating the soup having shade as a commodity. Whilst wading sands eating seas and rock and aflame and grass and logs and tree and leaves and days and grey worms and bark and meadow and sharks and shakes and snakes and bees flowering their own burdens of many thousands of men shake through the glass window of ice and sand breaking back the glass door aiming high to the world of wonder above the sun so hot baking all that comes near the flame burning bright to high sands waving out to see the ships sinking to the depths of darkness for the edge of distant moons weighing anchor in space of emptiness burdening their crew seeking new horizons in an empty plain of majestic beauty.
We begin again the attack on spiders webs of cosmic entanglement.