Psychic Philosophy for Today (16th November 2013)

Their mind comes across like some horizon to look at, a mountain to climb, yet in their eyes want to know for their thoughts before to work them out.

Before had once been neat and tidy only now those signals that give out are of old pathes that are hidden from an over-growth of mass development.

Like a piece of art all laid out and to admire yet there is just that one particular thing to take notice of amongst the scenery.

Praying for some thing only not knowing what it will be until to open those eyes and see like a surprise gift, although answers those prayers.

The story to tell is all about the loving relationship, there is no other way about it, that even to sweep under the carpet it will be the two of that become forgotten about.

All planned out and written down you can sing it in your mind knowing that a true heart is in thought. Need to open those eyes to see these words if to speak of where others make use for too. Although others have other concoctions to make a passion like nighttime dreams.

In the forest; plenty of stirring going on, such recipes being created for the tasting. A fat king sits upon a throne at this sacred place, the father of the child to this Holy Shrine, to sample these meals as he slumbers across such a seat. Throwing his weight about and if in disgust to such taste buds will throw to the dog situated beside him. While such ingredients are being carefully crafted together, this lump of a slob sacrifices a ram upon his lap. Spilling the blood across the floor for a peace offering, the blood appearing as crashing waves as it spreads along the floor. Casting up a dark thunderous cloud that shed lightening to point in the direction to drift in. Pass the vast women who in panic hide at the back, women that feel his wrath. The waves soon turn to flames of fire to engulf around the Holy temple for warmth, as better to deal with problems now than after an appetite. While such turmoil occurs, while the father arranges such future for food, the child still too young to dictate is being gently swayed in its crib that is held by vines from a magical tree. A tree that gently blows like a soft story to tell to keep things cool from the heat. Beside him, his mother delicately whistling along to the sound of the magical tree, with needle and thread to spindle together new attire.

In the stones; looking for that worn t-shirt to know for such measures already for been there and done that before only they are now on a short chain, using old methods for where matters are tangled and entwined yet those beans had been opened from the can long ago, appearing as a surprise yet steady to come across for such a love for being that other half of the journey that has already begun its travels.


Deuteronomy Ch.11:V.12 "A land which the Lord thy God careth for: the eyes of the Lord thy God are always upon it, from the beginning of the year even unto the end of the year."