When thou seest an eagle, thou seest a portion of genius; lift up thy head! – William Blake
And then I dreamt of them last night, plucking cobras from a field I was crossing and eating them, or dropping them from the sky. Further into that blindingly green field I started to see blood and brown feathers. Their mutilated bodies and my naked feet.
They tried to kill snakes that were too big and the snakes killed instead them, I reasoned in ether.
I had to hurry my crossing. I was late for my mother’s wedding.
A huge hall with grandiose party favors for many people. It was just the three of us in the audience. Like it always had been.
So, we waited.