We the motherless fatherless children of the moon wake up dreamless weeping. This is why we seek the all dreaming. The all dreaming is more feeling than place. Sometimes not always but sometimes we are chased by the fates. The fates laugh big round red blood platelet laughs and chase us laughing with scissors. We don’t know what they’ll cut where they’ll cut why they’ll cut if they catch us we’re sure they’ll cut. Someone once wrote It’s like cutting off your faith to spite the universe. I don’t know how that relates to the fates but I believe it does.
We the children of the moon understand that the moon is a cup and we fill it with water and drink laughing madly. When we drink enough moon water we talk about the good old days when we tilted at windmills and rode clanking boxcars. The good old days. We didn’t live them didn’t know them but we became them through the all dreaming. Sometimes in the all dreaming when we are scared we see the flashing of green scissors and hear the blood round laughing and know that the fates are following us. The fates stalk relentlessly their footsteps endless echoes. We bent inward and bending in further still keep ourselves away. We have long specialized in keeping ourselves away. Away is where our angels went whoosh the furious magnificence of their wings when they went. They said in not so may words Stay blessed but we don’t know how. Could the stalking fates be the angels in disguise returning? Could the green flashing scissors and laughing be exactly what we need? To stop running. There are many of us. The motherless fatherless waking up dreamless weeping. Stay blessed the going away angels left us. Then we alone. It’s okay. We the children of the moon of the all dreaming are inevitable. We are myths not yet spoken.