The spirit of Earth dances in them. They grow in the glory of the sun- children, decorations, paintings of the dark soil. From whence lie the crumbled fossils of yore, there is hope, for there is life. The world is alight, burning in the effervescence of Mother Nature. Their petals reach to embrace your open heart, lost forever in color. Theirs is the chemistry of a free spirit, wafting away into the perfumed atmosphere, leaving behind a beautiful shell for the ignorants to admire. They sing their earthly song, in the tempo of the bee's hum-
"Mine is the sun, its rays and its days,
Mine is the ground that gives me strength,
Mine is the river that runs through my core,
The blood of angels on earth."