The lead ideas fell on a field as voices
coming from a bad dream. The yellow
of the daisies became sharper than the
serpents’ teeth, and the fragrant sun

started to tremble in the wind. The ideas
would fall into a silent abysm, but they
have become as hard as those boulders
falling to hit people and to ****** their

reality. I am talking about those newcomers
picking the flowers and having injured
smiles. It looked like the life was destroying
itself under a predefined set of circumstances.

Those people had  ghostly, spectral feelings.
Those feelings began to grow into the Light of
God, Who has started to reconcile all things
to Himself through His Embodied Word.