Magenta Red Rose of Two Worlds
by
Dominic Arena Daley

started- Sep. 1, 2007 - last writing- February 28, 2008

Solar Cycle 24 began Jan. 5, 2008
 

To Humanity and Mother Earth
'meteorology of souls' (11)

"The Angels are the Hierarchy immediately above the Human Hierarchy itself. So the question is not unduly arrogant and we shall see how it can be answered. What are the Angels doing in humanities astral body in this present epoch which began in the 15th century and will last until the beginning of the third millennium?"

Rudolf Steiner - The Work of the Angels in Humanities Astral body - 1918 - (22)


"Ave, Formosissima"

Hail, most beautiful and good,
Hail, most beautiful and good,
Hail, honor of maidenhood,
Virgin ever glorious--
Hail, thou light above all lights,
Hail, thou light above all lights,
Hail, rose of the world--
Blacheflor
And Helen,
Venus,
Venus,
Venus noble-souled!

Carmina Burana (2)

Spirit of the water Give us all the courage and the grace
To make genius of this tragedy unfolding
The genius to save this place.

Shine - 2007 - 'This Place'-Joni Mitchell (3)

Their is an old extant legend of a wild, rare rose found on Earth so fine of aroma and color that it could spark a divine exit through the top of one's head from a single inhalation of its fragrance. This celestial'perpetual hybrid' the 'Rose of Paradise' is the magenta red Rose Gallica and grows secretly in the low rolling, inviting brown hills of the central California coastline. It is a rambling bush, spreading out like a common unruly weed. A blessings bush of blooms, the enchanted magical rose bush covers a small cloistered field tucked under a great weeping willow tree with a seemingly infinite number of leaves that grows in an ambient jungle of riotous pink and purple rhododendrons, black and blue berries, old Douglas fur and thick, twisting sky wards, ancient cedar trees.

This obscure, hidden treasure has in fact never been tended by the hand of man, woman or mortal for more than 500 years. Of the 10,000 known cultivated roses found in the world today, only one 'perpetual hybrid' magenta red Rose Gallica (1) still exist. An unlikely host, lost, untended and all but forgotten, it is once again going to be discovered. A Rose of such an obscure and divine aroma and color that a precise classifying of it's essence of tincture is not possible nor the spiritual significance of it's color understood to this day. It is a combination of the Cabbage, Tea and Damask Roses possessing all the scent variations of the three roses yet unclassifiable itself, lost to history.

   The ancient Romans knew of the Rose and were the first to cultivate the red Provins Rose (Rosa gallica). Later this 'perpetual hybrid' was reputed to be a medicine for the human soul in Europe 700 years ago. It was believed that this rose could heal the troubled personality and character of human souls living in the icy.., hot hell's of their own making. Deep in their hearts a space arose, warmed in odorous heavenly healing breeze's, surrounding them in Mother Nature's scented bulwarks to be free of bad humors and the fiercely cold black bile's of human cruelty.

   The world is undergoing the most rapid and catastrophic environmental changes since the last ice age 10,000 years ago. This emerging emergency is about to find once again the rare healing 'perpetual hybrid' magenta red Rose Gallica. A changing Earth is occurring now, the   ocean's weather roils in muddy, fouled and warm rising waters that surround us.

   The guiding spirits of humanity are providing planet Earth this special overarching grace for all humans who stand before unfolding disasters, ready for these inspiring scents of change and new colors for the soul. This is a story of penance, ''the blooming one', and absolution from the sorrows of humors healing with a flourishing humankind. As constellations overhead  pass from and into alignment with our Sun paths position to Earth, Aquarius is felt approaching, bringing with it redemption and guidance for humanity and announced with the discovery of this mercurial rose. Rose's of secretive, visual physical vehicles, new particles of essence for the 'meteorology of souls' journey in this updraft of a 'New Age'; the precious, sacred, 'perpetual hybrid' magenta red Rose Gallica, the 'Rose of Paradise'.

You walker, there are no roads,
only wind trails on the sea.
Antonio Machado

Today a closed portal has been opened
that which the serpent suffocated
in the wise-woman
is revealed to us.
Now the flower of the Virgin
is alight in the dawn.

Chants - (1098- 1179) - 'Today a closed portal has been opened' - Hildegard von Bingen

the magenta red Rose Gallica fields of great wolf hollow

The long hunted to near extinction, the giant Canis lupus occidentalis gigantis, with a pack of 21 wolves lived among the rare rose. The wolves over thousands of years and many generations have carried the Rose to it's present location. Their relationship goes back to the last 'great snows' 10,000 years ago. By wolf memory stories, the magical bloom was saved from sure destruction by Olive and Solon, the original Matriarch and Patriarch of the wolf pack. They discovered the rare rose bush covered in snow while hunting up in the Pyrannes mountains long ago. Together they pawed the snow away from the bush while chasing after some grouse that nested in the sprawling rose bed. As they fed on the birds the harsh cold winter weather began to set in then the 'great snows' started to fall. So they made a bed in the limbs of the meandering rose bush, laying chest to chest to stay warm while they are slowly buried in the snow with a food supply and water. They fell asleep with warm bodies and full stomachs.

   Long after the season's of cold began to recede and the warmth of the sun returned to enliven the Earth, the wolves awoke from their dormancy and the rose began to grow once again. Ever since, the Canis lupus occidentalis gigantis and that old 'perpetual hybrid' magenta red Rose Gallica have been joined at the roots and hips to travel in migrations across the Earth.

Usted walker, alli no es ningun camino,
solo el viento se arrastra en el mar.

Antonio Machado

Today the few remaining great animals travel the ridge lines from Mexico to Canada in the warm months of the year. The pack could trot 500 miles in 24-hours. Then as the fall leave's colors appear the pack trots back to their winter ground's in central California. The dens are by fresh water springs and a creek, the morning sun warms them on a south facing slope. In a hidden valley of hot springs, covered in walls of black berry bushes, ancient cedar tree's, it's huge limb beds and Douglas firs are found the 'perpetual hybrid' pure red Rose Gallica bushes. The wolves winter to breed, one female birthing usually 6 cubs in a litter come spring. The wolves have long evolved their hunting style away from the sheep and cattle of the farmer to the deer and elk of the open country that are caught in their dried, rose stem thorn fence net traps. Like fine woven wicker thorn crown baskets, they formed a great labyrinth surrounding there dens.

   The Canis lupus occidentalis gigantis full grown are 8 feet tall at the shoulder with heads big as ponies. By the early 1500's they were wiped out in England then eventually in most European countries. This great wolf of old lives only in the forest of the Northwest in survivable numbers today. Some are rumored to live in Russia and China but they are not saying. The woods of the Northwest of North America, Alaska and Canada is where the last pockets of these great ancient animals are known to be found. Knowledge of this shy creature is all but absent from our present day awareness of nature knowledge. Only the indigenous native folk of the regions knew of and told story about the great wolf, but now the animal is almost unknown. The pack has over great time found safe places for their dens while traveling the world. Their lair is interwoven with the ancient and storied rambling pure magenta red Rose Gallica rose. The den's are full of dried rose blossoms that fills the air with scents of the pure red Rose Gallica.

down on the farm

      Out along the coastline of California and just inland a few miles from the ceaseless seas low rumbling thunder lives Sergeo Thalia who is laying down now for his night's sleep. He feels the ocean pounding rhythmically vibrating with his senses, then slowly fading into the gases of his digestive track pouring now like a river into the sea's pull. His bones ached after a hard days work in his small orchard. Sleep now gives way to the tides pull. Drifting in sleep he then sees a skeleton dancing before him, his muscles fitfully writhe as he lays in his bed sweating, his breathing heavy...Then in the blink of the hypnagogic state he is quickly caught up in his twilight dream's inspiration. 

   Now the nerves deep in his gut, solar plexus, intuited that he was going somewhere... then as if gates were opened into a warm and welcoming place he is now looking at a beautiful red rose bush that has now appeared before him. Then he sees a woman, her face on fire,  short cropped bright red hair, wearing a light green shinning silk robe glowing bright as her fiery countenance. She identifies herself as a jinn: "I am from the mystical emerald mountains that surround the world, I have come to you for your assistance" he hears her say. She is holding a beautiful small emerald cup in her hand. "You have work to do and are called upon to serve the Hierarchies and assist soul." He notices the small prairie voles running about her feet. This strikes him as unusual at first but then nothing in this place seemed ordinary, quite the contrary really.

   Looking at the magenta red roses with it's glowing hues so bright that the very act of looking at them struck a deep emotional cord within Sergeo. The pain of loss for something forgotten makes an impression deep in his soul. This rose was magenta, a mixture of red and blue producing a deep purple color. It glowed like many dark blood red rubies caught in reflecting light. "Help this troubled world find the Rose of Paradise,.. open your heart. Find the pure red rose of Gallica."

   "The pure red rose of Gallica is infused with heavens violet light bringing to this earthly garden its sacred essence. In perfect symmetry, balance and peace it can fill the air of the world with a sweet rose fragrance." He now experiences a clairalience or "clear smelling" of a scent that he has never experienced before. Then he is in the marketplace and notices that the bustle with farmers anxious over prices and surpluses going unused fills the farmer's market with an air of high energy and anxious waves. Now they are all but gone. The small, china white skinned, fire spirit hands Sergeo a green emerald cup. As Sergeo peers into the cup he is spell bound to see velvety and deep purplish-red petals floating in the dark empty space of the cup.

   The woman looks at him as he gazes transfixed by the vision, then in a state of clairaudience he hears the fiery red head jinn spirit: "This is pure Rose Gallica, 2 parts red, one part blue, so very rare now. Many hybrids exist but only a few of the 'pure red rose' can still be found today."

   Sergeo looks at the floating ethereal petals floating suspended in animated fluttering like the wings of red butterflies flickering about in spirited spirals. Then clearly he hears the nocturnal visitor again: "It is the Alpha and Omega of colors, the Rose of Paradise, arriving from the violet spirit into the red Earth, as the descent of your soul into this life time."

   The color reminded him of the deep red vermillion color of his ripening figs that he grew in his orchard. He was now walking among his fig, olive and lemon trees as she continued speaking to him: "This rose's color contains all the colors of your rainbow as well as the white light." He is  pressing the olives from his orchard, the white oils pouring from the press into vats for storage. As she continues communicating with him he notices running about at her feet many mated prairie voles. He has seen them often running about in the fields. Their noses busy twitching all the time, collecting scent memories discovered out in the open fields. Revealed to them something hidden yet to be discovered. It triggered seemingly joyous writhing in the prairie voles small warm bodies as they actively pursued their all consuming romantic instincts.

   "Yes they too chase after the airs of attraction they sense about them. Just like the waves of love that can be rediscovered in the fragrance and color of the pure red Rose Gallica. In the world of nature and her creatures it is possible to experience the livingness of heaven in her violet splash of colors while walking in the enchanting humus scents of this red Earth world. If the world can find balance Sergeo between the two, then we can change the way we see the world. That is the hardest thing to communicate.... I am not who you think I am. Sergeo, I am a jinn now.. Just find that Rose, it will help our hearts cousin. Find that Rose you will understand why it is so important."

   As the jinn begins to fade from his dream vision.  "Remember Sergeo find something to be happy about every day of your life, it carries over. ...Change the way you see your world then your sadness, your false apprehensions about others and life will change, then the world will begin to change."

In the Rose of Paradise, are 'the ranks of Christ's great chivalry, which with His blood, a sacred spouse, He won'. "In the light of Christ grows a garden around him, of lilies, for His life, and roses, for His blood."

Dante's 'Divine Comedy' (4)

In the morning as Sergeo gets dressed he remembers his dream with the jinn looking soul about a mystical rose.He had the strange feeling that he was wide awake in the dream and that now as he was getting dressed he felt he was falling back into a walking sleep. He dressed ever so slowly, deliberately, as he reflects on his most unusual dream. The country was still sleeping, he thinks to himself then laughing out loud as he recalls a phrase he heard at a book signing. Like the dreams of his sleep, sub rosa, under the rose, the thought bubbles up. Shares with the audience the importance and challenge of an awakening 'geo- politically' with a 'reality based' politics here in the great land of these 'United States of Amnesia.' Our short, great history is today used for a fable convenue with little hard news helping us through the filaments and webs of infinite details used for an empire's management.

   Sergeo felt his sense of self surprisingly strong this morning as he began to reflect about his last few weeks on the farm. He had been having some arguments with his farm hands about relatively simple matters, watering schedules, weeding beds, pay draws. He now had the insight that even though they had little good to say about him, even held him in suspicion and did not trust that he would even pay them when the season was over he had to make some changes within himself.  Acknowledging the possibility that he might well be in error, and not the other way around. So Sergeo decides this morning that he will eat some crow, pay more attention to the concerns of others around him and put his pride, his haughty disposition aside while he works on himself. He knew he had to make some changes in his attitudes to engage life for the sake of fertile fields and his own peace of mind.

   As Sergeo walked out the door that morning he did something he had never done before. He began to speak out loud to himself: 'I am That I am' like his great grandfather Carlo Thalia used to call out to him when he was a young boy. 'Think it's time to prune the olive trees'. Smiling, he thought about the old olive trees his great grandfather Carlo had planted over 200 years ago. Had the root stock of the ancient olive trees shipped to him from the old country of Crete when he arrived in America in 1785. They were tended with the finest care, and craftsmanship, pruned to bear massive amounts of olives for years to come.

   As a boy helping his grandfather Niclos gather up the olives from the ground he remembered him saying: "in Crete we have olive trees that were around at the time of Christ. Imagine Sergeo trees that are 2000 years old and still bearing fruit. "

    He would tell me: "He visited John on Patmos so I would not be surprised if he even came to Crete and walked among our ancient olive groves, eating the ripe sweet olives."

   As he was starting to prune one of the olive trees with his small limb saw he notices a small car driving up the road. The dust kicking up along the winding road behind the fast moving vehicle made it look like a fast traveling lizard on the run after flies in the noon day sun.  It was Ripley Tile a distant cousin on his mothers side of the family who Sergeo has not seen in many years.  In fact the last time he had seen Ripley was at the amphibian display at the San Francisco zoo. Ripley was displaying a rare South American lizard collection he had collected while living in Brazil. Ripley was one of the foremost experts on antediluvian reptiles.  As he got out of his Gecko Aero lithium batteries powered car. Sergeo looked at the lean tall figure that strode towards him now.

   "How you doing' Cuz?" He looked so young Sergeo thought, figured it was easy living, but then collecting reptiles and caring for them did not strike him as particularly easy.  As he approached Sergeo he was licking his very thin lips: "Good to see you" he says to Sergeo who smiles and looks into the darting eyes of his cousin. Rip- was not one for long gazing looks into the soul if you will. "So what brings you to the coast Ripley?" "Underground tunneling" he replies quickly. Laughing, Sergio then asked: "You looking for reptiles?... I got some Gila monsters out here now, don't want you running off with them in your pockets." Ripley looks out over the field for some moments: "No they are safe now, gone into hibernation" he says as a matter of fact, his eyes pinched, slowly surveying the landscape.

   As Sergeo started his pruning of the olive trees he asked his cousin if he was going to visit his grandfathers grave site. "No not really Sergeo. I'm here to check on some caves. The Earth is heating up, sun's heating up more clouds in the atmosphere, earth's fires make our tunnels even more strategically important now. Lots of carbon dioxide is getting pumped into the atmosphere, it complicates the carbon budget of the Earth, the equations for global warming rates are...askew. Time for us to get our quarters in order once again,.. sub-surface locations.. Cuz...You got a plan man?"he asked as he looked off into the distance.

   His cousin watched a big California King snake lazily laying itself out in the afternoon sun. Sergeo watched him lick his lips while staring at the large snake, then he briskly walked over to the sunning snake and grabbed it quickly. What happened next caught Sergeo completely off guard.

   "I been driving all night to get here Sergio and I'm famished." He turned his back on Sergeo and bent over for a moment, then he could hear what only could be described as crushing, chewing sounds. He looked closely now at his thin, gray pallored cousin, shaking his torso back and forth as though he was tearing something apart...he then realized that Ripley was devouring the snake in front of his very eyes.

   "Hey what are you doing. Do you know that is the California King snake, one of the finest animals on the planet today...they eat rattle snakes!...where the hell did you learn that, is this some Brazilian cuisine."

   "No" he heard Ripley call out to him. "Just love the taste, got some tangy flavor. Only thing that compares with this delicacy is the Armadillo of Texas road kill, taste like..."

   "That's o.k. Rip, you can spare me the culinary comparisons, but you are going to have to treat my critters here with some restraint. Can you do that?" He looked at his wide jawed cousin shedding the snake skin from the body now. Ripley looked at his cousin through his almond shaped brown eyes: "Sure Cuz just needed a little something to tide me over."

   "Tide you over until you find your tunnels beneath the city? Must be something else. Probably have snake snacks down there...do they have farms, like we do topside?"

   "Yes." His tall lean frame stood out against the high noon sun now and gave Rip the appearance of a tall lizard standing on it's hind legs raising it's head one last time to swallow the last remnants of meat from the large, supple, red and yellow ringed snake.

   "Thanks Cuz. That hit the spot. I have to scurry on now but I will be in touch." He walked up to Sergio and extended his hand. For the first time he noticed that Ripley's finger tips had small almost imperceptible suction cups on his finger tips. Same pads he had noticed on the ginkgos that ran around his farm house.

   "Do you ever think about him?...Sergeo was immediately aware of who Rip was referring to. "Not so much now but for years I could not shake the feeling that he was still here." They were referring to their cousin Alberto Sobertinni who was killed in the Vietnam war some 35 years earlier.

   "You know Rip I often thought for years that he would just appear one day like he had never been gone." His memory filled with the last time that he and Ripley had been with Al before he enlisted. Remembered his laugh, his last hug before leaving for boot camp to join the 7th Infantry Div at Fort Ord which was located 5 miles north of Monterey, California. That was the last time he would ever see his cousin. He shipped out to Vietnam in 1967 and was killed in battle that fall.

   "You know Rip I still think he's around. He loved coming out here from the city, pick some fruit, do some target practicing with his 22, listen to his rock 'n' roll, ride the dirt bike around the farm and then drink some beers."..They were quiet now then Rip starts to walk back to his car. "Sirius as the sun he's around cuz, serious as the sun and gravity waves he's around."  He stops quickly as if he had something very important to say.

   Standing there, his thin frame hardly casting a shadow on the ground in the afternoon sun. He ever so slowly turns back three quarters not moving a foot and looks Sergeo right in the eye.  "You know Sergeo that young human Self of yours has to manage 300 moving parts, in 3 regions of your brain. So that Self of yours better be rational and up to the trianglation of your bio metrics projective geometry, and very present to the tasks at hand." He pauses, looking through the slits of his closely pursed eye lids ever so intently then admonishes him. "Don't go emotional plague on us now,... that nasty, ill willed little man gene in your species drives good people away, or kills them.. We and others have to much time invested in this little experiment, so would hate to lose you now when it's just getting delicately complex." He smiled at Sergeo, licked his lips one last time then turned walking back to his car.

   He got in his Gecko Aero lithium batteries powered car. He called out to Sergeo as he was driving off. "Lithium batteries for the car, lithium ornate for the brain. Just a salts flash for brawn and brain given freely to my Earth bound Cuz. Got to go now while the pickings are easy. Have fun... and eat well!," he says this as he licks his lips with his long thin tongue removing any remaining blood or guts from his wide mouth. "Where did you learn about lithium, in some salt caves?" Sergeo calls out.  "Sure Cuz, cool from surface heating and warm from cooling weather. Atmosphere changes come along about now, the upper atmosphere, the thermosphere is cooling and contracting. Been here a long time Cuz... 65 million years, longer. Don't be offended, just remember the body salts, wake up cuz, it's going to get cold pretty soon!" "You ever try roses?" Sergeo asked. "No I'm a snake oil, salty old scent thang Cuz...see ya...'" laughing loudly as he begins to drive off:.."Remember you do have that juicy pea in your head,... your pineal gland my two- leggins Cuz. Learn to work with it, you'll be alright, no matter what happens."

   Then he's gone in a cloud of dust driving off just as fast as he had arrived. Sergeo thought about his cousin as he began working on his olive trees.  As a kid he would hike with Ripley in the deserts of Death Valley and how his cousin always found lizards, snakes, bugs, tarantulas, scorpions, anything that moved really. He was uncannily comfortable with the entire animal kingdom, as a result Sergeo enjoyed hiking with his unorthodox and quirky cousin.

   As he was removing some limb boards from under the great olive tree limbs he noticed his field hands working on the fig trees. They have brought their drums along this afternoon as they liked to play when the spirit moved them and which Sergio enjoyed listening too. He sees the men culling through figs from the tree that now appeared to cover the ground. It was fall time yet the figs were producing an unusually abundant crop. Waves of shimmering large green fig leaves quiver in the soft breeze, light milky nectar flows from the limbs released of their fruit.

   Sergeo looks at the 3 men waving. They smile at him beckoning him over. He obliges, walking over to where they are working. He starts helping to harvest the fallen figs on the ground as he is doing so he feels out the psychosocial temperature on this cool fall afternoon. Steady as she goes comes streamin' in as he happily says to the men: "Afternoon" as the cool breeze kicks up. A web of living thought can be felt out in the fields bounding silently. A psychical energy spiraled round out swelling into the air as a great windhorse rode across the sky, baby faces in the clouds. Complexification of the mind sphere at it's best.

   The wind sounds through the air. The deserts of ego where breaking down into the interrelationships of farm work. The old crow was of bitter taste on the desert plate of the ego, yet evolution was becoming conscious of itself and Sergeo was determined to grow with it on this heart felt wrenching road of learning. He imagined himself as specks of a neon helix dust particle plasma cloud in an expanding Universe.

   As they went about harvesting the figs a fourth crew member showed up. It was Michael, the crew boss, who has brought his drum with him to play for some healing on the farm this afternoon. He has not been around the farm the last few weeks due to an ongoing argument that he has been having with Sergio. Michael was against using any non organic weed controlling agents to kill off the blackberry bushes that threatened to swallow the entire orchard if they could not be controlled. He believed goats were the answer but Sergio was afraid that they would loose themselves in the orchard and subsequently kill off the fruit trees. 

   Michael set up his drum and began playing, they offered him a drum to play and Sergio joined the two other drummers and began playing along with them. It so touched Sergio's heart as the rhythm begins to unfold. He thought about his dream last night as he softly at first tapped the drum head gently: "Mother nature's world and the human world, with no judgment, just peaceful balance, then together you will thrive." Now the drumming has become timeless as the air warms up around them, and once again Sergio feels whole. The monkey cage of his doubts, fears are gone now, replaced with a calm heart beat that has become attuned and is riding along with the life force stream community

   The patterns of rhythm became intricate. From 2/4 time to 4/4 then back to 2/4.The tempo was set by Michael who was now leading the group. Sitting in a circle the energy seemed  consolidated and charged the drummers beats. The time changed to 3/3 or 3 beats per second, very fast. Michael would later explain to him that the beat was the 'eagle beat'. It was for Sergio like the projective geometry class he had taken in college. He realized now that drumming was in fact a form of projective geometry, providing for an inner spirit movement, and this made him smile very wide as he drums in worlds as corkscrews of creation flush in bliss. All the drummers are now humming along in a magnetic field of fluttering plasma that is attracting both healing energies and cooperation.

   In a peaceful state of mind...as in a deep dream state... he drums with the others. His heart  wide open to the spirit language of his own heart. He feels a pain deep in his stomach. He  realized that the Franklin bumblebee that has pollinated most of his fruit trees this spring, as they had done since his childhood. But something was wrong now, not one of the black faced, yellow headed Franklin's bumblebee showed up this fall. In his gut he knew they had gone extinct over the course of the summer. He was concerned, it happened so quickly, not even noticed by scientists until after they were gone.

   He drummed for the bee's now gone, for the frog's in ponds of warming and disappearing waters, for the soul of America and for all humans who hear and don't hear mother nature's  call for striking a balance. Michael brought the drum circle to a close slowing the beat with all four drummers stopping in synch to his last beat of his drum. Silence followed the reverberations out around the curved Earth. Then they could feel their uplifted and spirited psychic energy expanding now out away from the sphere of Earth into space.

Old Chinese words by Lu Po We in Spring and Autumn speak of the same secrets of becoming:

Morals and music mirror the feelings
of heaven and earth. They bring us
into unison with the life forces of
the heavenly gods. They call the higher
gods down and the lower gods upward,
and make the fine and the coarse condense
into forms.

   That evening Sergio was glowing from his transpersonal drumming experience. As he stood on his porch eating some fat Ruby Cabernet grapes that grow beside the old farm house, he noticed the weather turn decidedly gray with some strong gusts picking up. Looking at the poplar trees, their tops shaking violently in the wind, he watched a Bald Eagle flies down into the still point of the wind break. The large brown bird with white head and tail hovered 15 feet above his head before slowly flying off. He watched the graceful bird fly on then disappear from his sight. A blessing filled him that night, as he turned in early.

   In rained so hard that night that folks in the area spoke of it as that 'freak storm of October' for weeks. It rained so hard that night that when Sergio awake this morning his bed was surrounded in a pool of rain water. It had poured through his open bedroom window that night. And like the creek that ran through his farm lands over flowing it's banks, his bedroom was now in standing water an inch deep. He was chilled and wet as he looked out from his bed and saw the pool of reflecting water surrounding his bed. He slowly turned his head to look at the standing water and saw his reflection lightly rippling across the water's surface that was now catching the morning light. It was as if he were awaking from a world of great storms into the waters of a new life.

   He got up from his cool, damp bed and gathered up some clothes. As he dressed in the kitchen he looked out into the fields and saw that the sky had cleared and that a great many birds had gathered in the trees around the farm. Literally hundreds of birds blown in from the storm that night had gathered in the trees for their safety. He looked out his kitchen window  as he buttoned his shirt looking at the crows, ravens, terns and sea gulls that were gathered in the trees.

   Walking out into the fields he says a prayer for the state of the state. As he walked in the mud out to the open fields he looked at the damage the rains had brought. His creek had crested over night and now his olive grove, fig and lemon trees are standing in pools of water that surrounded their trunks in pools of water that was inches deep. He had never seen this much standing water on the farm before.

   Sergio stands in middle of his orchard and looks up into the tall cottonwoods and poplar trees that surround the farm in a verdant embrace. He says prayer's for the land's of Earth. Sergio bows his head to the Archangel Michael asking for it's protection and guidance from the wily ways of the godless, running like wild dark dogs among us. Nature's knowledge of the soul is just around the bend however, evolution's mutation on the ark of soul to a higher place.

   As in the blink of an eye, the taciturn Archangel hears Sergio's call. The gathered birds in slow unison rise up from the shelters of their rookeries and roost, spiraling up from the trees to congeal in a great feathered swarm that miraculously begins to circle above him as he stands there in the thick mud watching the birds. Hundreds of them spiral up into the misty cool air like gyres of graced beings, soaring up on wings of prayer and healing into clouds of angels and luminous light. Sergio is transfixed by what he is witnessing. It is still early, none of his crew have arrived as he is  carried far above in spirit on the mystical tail winds of the rising spire of birds into a space glowing bright white in an opening of the clouds that spread across land and his soul with blessings of a very real celestial light. His rich imagination and love for this beautiful and intricate life is joined with the legions of strong winged beings moving in the above.

   Sergio is once again free of the noise of a broken world in freefall, news pulled from the thinning air for door's to war's, a humanities leader's inability to learn grade school Earth lessons. "So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets" Math 7:12 - (NIV) New Internation Version.  A new, better space, a culture of thriving life as prevailing zeitgeist, released in the moment from the nagging, stifling sense of lack that accompanies the inherent woes and wages of a capitalist captivity.

Vous marcheur,la' n'etes aucune route,
seulement le vent trai'ne sur la mer.
Antonio Machado

back in the magenta red Rose Gallica fields of great wolf hollow

   The wolf pack of Canis lupus occidentalis gigantis are looking out for each other. They stay hidden in their underground dens, tunnels dug in over the years beneath the berry bushes and the over grown and ground's sprawling magenta red Rose Gallica bush roots. From the small openings in the thicket they watch the elk grazing in the green fields around the thicket, looking right into their eyes as they looked up, unbeknownst to the elk. The wolves had long ago won the pissing contest with humans for this forgotten spot of Earth. They had weaned themselves off the deer, to much human wrath came with that game. So over the last few centuries they focused their appetites on the elk, discovering that the meat was tastier and more was had for less, as well as possible attention from humans. The past and present alpha males and females have a urine ring surrounding their den. It is worn light blond, brown over the years and exudes a reeking odor disturbingly noticed by passing animals who then moved away from the scents.

  Wolves are the living repositories for human myths and fears. Most of these human made tales portray the wolf as an evil animal and the eater's of human flesh. An unusually strange myth says that at the full moon the wolf can possess a human's soul. For such myths and many others the wolf has become all but annihilated from the face of the Earth. As to the truth of such myths, few have ever been substantiated. The only myth of any truth about wolf is the Norse myth of the berserker. A warrior who in battle is transformed, as if in a frenzy, into a wolf or a bear. They were frightful to behold, frothing at the mouth, impervious to the sword or fire of his enemy. Truth is that the wolf will fight to the death, never barks, stays paired to his mate for life with a life span of about 20 years. Canis lupus occidentalis gigantis had a lifespan of 50 years.

   One other thing about the wolf pack. One male or female becomes the Omega wolf. This wolf lives on the edges of the intricate wolf society. It is the last in the pack to eat and if food should be short this wolf has learned to eat less for the others welfare. It also travels on the outskirts of their range. This is the life of the Omega wolf. If the replaced Alpha now the Omega wolf was fair in dispatching it's duties as the Alpha then it is treated well in it's old age. If as an Alpha it was abusive or domineering it will be treated as such when it becomes the Omega wolf. The Omega wolf of the pack was called Lightning, the Alpha wolf was named Thunder. They had been mated for 35 years before separating.

back at the farm

    Sergio stands on the old family farm looking at the flood plain that has descended on his farm like some baptism of faith for his farm's future. Then as if a magnifying glass is slowly moved into position to catch the sun's rays, the pools of water slowly at first begin to warm then in the next hour being evaporating into the air. As the day grew hotter he stood in the orchard watching the mist rise thick and fast from the shrinking pools. That afternoon around 3:30 the temperatures reached 98 degrees. By day's end the water was entirely absorbed back into the ground or up into the air. 

   That night Sergeo went to bed with the sun set. Shortly after falling asleep he is again visited by the Farsi madden with the bright red short hair and shimmering green robe. She is smiling, once again happy to see him in the dream state. They are now riding in a car, the joy they felt at being together in the dream was palpable. They did love each other and the absence did not diminish the immediacy of the experience they shared now. "Do you know who I am" she asked Sergeo. "No but I do like being with you, whoever you are" "Think about it with your heart Sergeo." ...The scene changes, Sergeo is now walking on to a movie set with the soul Ginn. "There, do you see that? they know you are here, they are welcoming you." Sergeo looked around the busy scene which reminds him of a busy day at the farmer's market, much comings and goings, voices loud with directions, information, energy.

   Sergeo turned to look at his friend who was now smiling at him. "It's me, cousin Alberto" as the face of his cousin slowly begins to appear in the face of the short haired madden who is again riding along in a car he is driving. "Alberto, it is you! Wow! Great being here with you! You are alive after all, I could  feel you around for awhile. then...""It's good Sergeo, life is a wheel." She smiled at Sergio continuing: "Life is a wheel, what you don't do now, you will do later, ...life is balance." They look at each other riding along in his car then he hears Alberto say: "Find the magenta red roses Sergeo, for the world..for your heart!" as the dream being ginn fades from his view.

Sie Wanderer, dort sind keine Straben,
nur Wind auf dem Meer schleppt.

Antonio Machado

   After breakfast he decided to go to a forest garden fair held that weekend in Monterey at the Fort Ord public lands hoping he could meet other farmers who might be able to share some insight's to their current crisis. Before he left for the permaculture fair over the weekend he took a walk through his orchard. He noticed that every leave of every tree had turned yellow. The roots had been subjected to 24 hours of  standing water, drowning the  leaves, which would fall to the ground in the next two weeks. Sergeo's hope was that the old olive tree root systems had not also been killed off as well. The lemon and fig tree's were incredibly hardy and might have been able to with stand the torrent of the flood waters but he would not know that for weeks, even months. The orchard was now in for the fight of it's life, slipping into the healing sleep of hibernation for the next few weeks or even months.

   As he drove down the coastline he thought about his farm. He wanted the land to survive the rains but was not sure his orchard was going to make it. He decided then and there that he would have to plant anew, introduce entire new plantings on to the old farm, assuring that his farm would continue to be viable into the years ahead. The brown, yellow foothills rolling to the oceans edge calmed him as he drove along the highway. He thought about the 3-dimensional gardening workshop and exhibit that he was driving to. Producing food in companion with the comfrey, dandelions, blackberries' and all the land provided. Figured it could not hurt at this point. The local plants, the obnoxious and the wild, celery and onions of such pungency they called out for attention.  All of them with yields that can benefit humans. Companions, friends, in the multi leveled universe of plants and the planet. A new orientation with the compass of nature functionalism he figured.

   "Find the magenta red Rose Gallica Sergeo."

   This secret and hidden rose with higher dimension's connectivity crosses his mind now. He feels the ocean's pulse, the beating wave's shake the road beneath him as he drives the old highway south. The fresh salty ocean air fills the old truck as his musings about this ancient English rose rise up to ring softly in his thoughts. He falls into an 'alpha state' driving down the scenic, great rocky outcropped formations rising coastline. Somewhere deep in his subconscious mind Sergeo was beginning to understand that 'in potential' all human beings can in fact move from un-centered zero's to zero points of singularity via prayer, meditation joyful labor, preparing a meal, driving a car, riding a bike.

    Sergeo is beginning to understand that humanity is awakening to its gravity wave based life forms potential. Humans are on the move now into the 4th dimension of a collective universal consciousness. (15) The long lost and forgotten magenta red Rose Gallica holds the alchemical chemistry in its fragrance and tinctures that can unlock that door that allows  humanity a passage away from it's destructive egotistical tendencies. This rare bloom with it's transpersonal, transcendent fragrance allows for a collective transmutation of humanity into the space of unified cooperation and new found freedoms. The pure Rose Gallica must be rediscovered however and reintroduced back into the scent and blood streams of humanity and the world. It will require great courage and keeping one's heart open in hell, as Sergeo is discovering.

You walker, there are no roads,
only wind trails on the sea.
Antonio Machado

   Sergeo arrived at the Fort Ord public lands entrance about noon. There was a small market called the 'Light Fighter' with a big dirt parking lot and a comfortable, well used porch with couches and comfortable chairs. It provided plenty of seating for locals and anyone who wanted to just take a spell off, relax, and meet some of the local folks. Several people were sitting out front enjoying the cool but sunny afternoon as Sergeo walked towards the storefront. He looked at the Eucalyptus trees that surrounded the spot taking a deep breath, smiling as he thinks to himself: 'flee collars, pet pillows, chest cold creams, vapors, ah the possibilities' as he exhaled the invigorating air, smiling up at the wind driven, sea sound's swaying limbs of this often maligned and underutilized tree weed.

   As he stepped onto the porch he saw a banner hanging from a rafter at the end of the deck. It was a definition for permaculture. Sergeo figured that was a good idea as few people he talked to seemed to know just what it was. "Permaculture is an ecological design system for sustainability in all aspects of human endeavor. It teaches us how build natural homes, grow our own food, restore diminished landscapes and ecosystems, catch rainwater, build communities and much more" Institute of Permaculture. Sounds like a bunch of farmers Sergeo thought.

   He decided to see what they had at the little table they had set up. Three people were sitting at the table, two women and a man .He took up some pamphlets: 'hemp production and uses' 'good teas in the yard' 'health is wealth' and said 'good afternoon' to them. They smiled: 'good afternoon. You here for the forest permaculture workshop?"

   "Sure am" looking at the schedule of the days events. 'Compost beds for planting and warmth', 'teas from anything close by', 'building a camp from materials down and dead', 'love change', 'farming is fun', 'hemp seed oil production and use', 'frog farming with friends' 'life options and energy', 'adaptation and mitigation options'  'pasture and crop response to Earth's climate change' and 'save the gray wolves'.

   Sergeo was not sure what he was wandering into here but then he did need some inspiration and his own emotions were frayed from the elements.  Some positive input, no matter what about, compost beds or nettles tea was probably what life ordered at this point.

   "Five dollars." "Sure." Sergeo reaches into his pocket and takes out a handful of bills. He hands them a five dollar bill that looked like it had gone through a washing machine bleached to white, limp, body gone, held together by pride. He hands one of the women the tired bill. She smiles handing him a pass. "Enjoy. See you around." "Sure. Look forward to the workshops, might learn something I need to know." "Maybe."

   For the first time Sergeo noticed that the woman of dark complexion in the cow print, blue rubber boots was exquisically beautiful and she looked somehow familiar to him. She glanced up at him for a moment with her long looking, gray eyes then turned away to speak to someone else. Sergeo walked away from the table, reading the schedule for the day's events but could not shake her look into his eyes. He then noticed the flowering 'love-lies-bleeding' and 'Hopi Red Dye' amaranth beds that ran along the side of the deck, looked like thick red grape clusters tumbling, falling down there for her joy. Reminded him of someone as the soft breeze swayed plump red rolling blooms in late season dancing.

   As he walked into the small store he looked at a pamphlet that he had just picked up. It was about the possible slaughter of 600 Yellowstone park and Central Idaho gray wolves this winter. Sergio was aware that the gray wolves are still on  the endangered species list. The idea that this "keystone species" could be shot from air craft perhaps taking out entire packs of gray wolves seemed senseless and very possibly bad timing by the government. He had visited Yellowstone park many times over the years. Now he was keenly aware about the Yellowstone caldera floor and it's upward movement of almost 3 inches (7 centimeters) per year over the last three years. Three times more than at any time since the measurements have been calculated since the early 1920's. Sergeo shuddered to think what the unintended consequences of this hunt might produce. The odd timing of the hunt, just as the Yellowstone supervolcano was filling it's magma chamber with molten rock struck him as a misunderstood linkage between nature and the actions of human's. The politicians and ranchers did not approach the situation holistically, hunting the gray wolves at this time did not bode well for the land he feared.

   The effects of the wolf ripple through an entire ecosystem and had become self evident over the years. He noticed that the willows, cottonwoods, aspens thrived again in the river and creek beds. Beavers had returned to build colonies, their dams allowing the marshlands to rebirth lives of otters, ducks, mink, muskrats. The low hanging limbs, leaves shimmering in the wind free from the foraging elk who had become wary of the growing wolf packs. The biologist, the ecologist understood the ripple effects in nature that the wolf was responsible for. Seemed to Sergeo that when things started looking good, humans had a way of screwing things up once again. Hunting the gray wolves at this time did not seem in synch with the facts of nature.

   "Looking for anything I can help you with?" Sergeo looks up to see a woman standing behind the counter. "No I'm just looking around." "That's fine, need any help, just ask." "Sure."

   Behind the counter was a poster of a five pointed violet star. A red heart was in the middle of the star and in the middle of the heart was a 5 petaled magenta rose. In the middle of the rose ran a vermillion river. A quote was underneath the beautiful illustration.

 "When the hot iron blood of desire's tempest is tamed and purified we create a fortress of soul,
  Then the human stands as a phosphorus five pointed star, raying eternal violet light and love for all." 

   "Never seen a poster like that before. Where did that come from anyway."

   The woman looked at Sergeo, smiled and said: "Not sure who brought that in. Just been up a few days now. I like it ." The music playing was Carmina Burana the 13th century drinking songs of the Bavarian monks, called Goliards, "big mouths" as they had their way with the church, lampooning it into their late nights of drinking, singing and women. Morals and correctness were not the fare of the day with these lads and ladies, moderation was not wispered among them. The euphoria in the music filled the store now, these monks and friends knew how to party and that they did.

 "Non est crimen amor."

Love is not wrong because,
If it were a crime,
God would never have used love
To bind even the divine...
Carmina Burana (2)

   Sergeo noticed for the first time how colorful the small market was. And how uplifting the decor was. For such a small space, Sergeo on occasion had problems with claustrophobia, he found the surrounds of the small store somehow calming, even peaceful. Looking around the store he noticed some toiletries that caught his attention. Deodorants, tooth paste, hair products...then he saw a product he had not seen in years. Musk scent for men. He smiled as he continued listening  to Carmina Burana playing in the background.

    Sergeo imagined himself in confession with the local priest. "Father it was a love bound to the divine, I was not able to resist Venus and her youthful passion for life." "Ah my son you have sinned, perversions of the flesh, now for your penance. How are the olives and figs doing this spring?" Sergeo laughed out loud.  

   "Need any help, know this place like the back of my hand." "No, just looking at the musk you have here. I have not seen this product for years." She laughed responding: "Me myself I'm a naturalist, like that natural musky odor, got lots of it around here, as you can imagine."

   "Sure can with all the farming and getting after it that goes on around here." Now they laughed together. "Yea we got the whole package, from the working to working retired, animals, plants and lots of composting, so interesting smells galore just out that door."

    Sergeo continued looking at the products on the shelf then noticed an article hanging from one of the shelves. The headline read: "Androstadienone - 'love pheromone' smells of musk, love awaits." He reads the short article which says this male chemical was a derivative of testosterone and is found in the sweat of males as well as in their semen and saliva. Sergeo smiles at the irony, thinking to himself that sweat, that enemy of odors has now been discovered to be a mood changer to charger for some women. Who would have known that natural odors were attractors for the human, or for that matter that natural consensual love between lovers was not a crime.

   Just keep our hearts open through these 'times in change', all taking the licks of an empire's aging process Sergeo figured. Then we pass and time's ticks come to rest upon our chests of brawn, the beast of burden spent, in spirit we can hear the songs of angels calling us, remembering.

We descend in freedom, ascend in joy as from spirit into soul.
Active silence cooks in simmering sauces of our aging grace.
As memory of Rose Paradise lingers in the guarded essence.

Red rose, soft as wings of new born birds or the morning dews,
is gently bathed in spirits light for romance and joy of good life.
Bringing sweetness and songs to our bones and substance all.

In one's holy estate alone or with others, we all can grow now.
Kitchens of kindness found, soul's heavens from hell's kitchen.
Sauces simmer warm loves bind,half baked hates steam away.

Unseen worlds of human loves, labors, days and ways occur as
spirits of courage surround us, sharing strength and vision for all.
Suns shine above to within, guiding us to the red Rose Paradise.

Dominic Daley - 'Kitchens of Kindness'' - 2008

Sergeo walked up to the counter with some ginger candy and hawthorn blend tincture. "Passed on the musk? going with the blood and heart instead, good choices." She smiled,  had such an very easy, relaxed feeling about her as she continued speaking.  "We got a lot of that around here anyway, believe me, the musky odor I mean..." She paused just a moment then continued: "Take care of your blood and heart, that romance gel is good for the fleeting rushes, probably invented by poets no doubt.. the romance idea that is."

    "Yea, I imagine it gets thick around here. Had to laugh when I read that article about Androstadienone - the 'love pheromone'. After I read that I figured that makes us farmers sexy. Figured the Hawthorn blend keeps my heart pumping as I'm pheromone exuding sexy while farming. Then I got both ends covered, if I should get physically over exerted!"

They laughed real loud, felt like a warm 'orgone' energy cloud to Sergeo, lifting them up in a shared crescendo until they were short of breath. Quiet for a moment, the woman with glasses and short red hair looked at Sergeo then in a lyrical voice spoke up. "Yea...sexy, sixty farmers,.. now that's a sell!" That really made Sergeo laugh loudly. He loved her sense of humor, and wondered if she was indirectly referring to him. She looked like she was in her 30's but Sergeo was never really sure of anyone's age any more, lost interest in that once he reached 40. Figured in the great scheme of things it was probably more beneficial for him to look at  how many days he was upon this Earth. His 21,600 + days of living on this planet were, for him, a better way of gauging the progress of his aging consciousness.  Sounded more like the age of a star, a planet, something of substance and duration, even the ripening fruit of an orchard. Not how many years we have piled upon our failing, entropy laden backs. All we have is today, this is where we take risks, where we learn from days passed and where things, in potential, can change.

 He now noticed that they were looking into each others eyes, for what seemed usually long moments of times and feeling real good behind it. Clear eyes, clean hands for now, they liked each other. That is always a good start, women do seem to know how to do that. Sergeo pays for the ginger and hawthorn blend, they bow in synch to each other, he tucks his goods into the pouch pocket of his jacket then leaves the store.

back in the magenta red Rose Gallica fields of great wolf hollow

Camminatore, la siete strade,
solo il vento strascica sul mare
Antonio Machado

   Up on the ridgeline above the wolf dens in the wolf hollow Lightning is trotting north this late afternoon to some hot springs in the old growth forest, he's with five  other wolves. The outcasts Francis, Giovanni and Clair and 2 immature wolves Rufino and Pica who where on their way up the hierarchy of the wolf pack. Lightning carried cuttings of the 'perpetual hybrid' magenta red Rose Gallica' in his jaws as did Francis and Clair. Some looking for territory, some for a mate, all of them excited to be on the snow covered trails.

  The wolves were on the run trotting 35 miles an hour, flying, only their rhythmic breathing, footpads patter are heard on the white covered path they were making. It was now that they all felt free, that a happy ending was up the road 500 miles for them,... and they would be there tomorrow afternoon. These were the hot healing waters that they had been sharing with the indigenous peoples for thousands of years, then the late comer Russians, and finally the most recent arrivals, the white men miners in just the last 100 years. As they ran, they shifted into a smooth glide, each wolf in stride with the one ahead. They defied gravity, in stride, flying along the narrow frozen trail, their endurance was phenomenal in the high alpine forest, along the rocky ridgeline, to the hidden and remote mineral warm waters of the healing pools.

   In the wind faint echoes could be heard, fading as they packed up the mountain trails. Homo sapiens are in the midst of a crisis in the world, an ongoing mass extinction. The wolves were on the run now, could feel a chill in the evening air, felt the Earth shaking beneath them as they moved lightly over the land, hearing fainter and fainter echoes of life as they got deeper in the wilderness. The birds were quiet, the crickets were just waking up. They trot quickly, quietly through the mountains, the moon slowly lights up the trail..

   Back at the permaculture forest garden fair, Sergeo sets up his tent up for the weekend event. He has a nice spot picked out by a brisk little babbling creek, his camp lantern is set on the fold out table he has brought with him, some fire wood us gathered up in the fire ring for a small fire, some beans to heat up for a meal along with some fruit, nuts, and a loaf of flax seed bread and cheese are on the table as well. He brought some low fat milk, a jug of grape juice and a jug of water from his well on the farm. He's glad to be there looking forward to the fair. He has already met some farmers and is feeling better about his situation. He is optimistic about tomorrow.

   Two people arrive to set a camp up just up from his site. It is the two women he had seen earlier at the market. They waved to him as they went about their activities. Soon they have taken out camp chairs, folding camp table, lantern, stove, binoculars are set out. They drove a Toyota truck, silver with a camper shell. Laughing at their own 'calls of the wild' they went about setting up there camp, seemed to be happy, nice people Sergeo thought.

   They were getting ready to watch the Geminid meteors this night. They are produced from the comet Phaethon which is coming from the constellation Gemini. The dust streams it shot off in the sky have been fermenting, roiling in the universe for thousands of years before it finally passes by the Earth. The first showers of the Geminid came at the time of the Civil War 150 years ago. They have been regular as the seasons ever since and peak in mid- December.  Meteors make a fire trail, as they are falling through the atmosphere, glowing as they travel  50 to 70 miles above Earth. It is the speed of the meteor and the Earth's atmospheric gases that creates the friction that then creates the heat which in turn produces the glowing which occurs as the meteor burns up in a matter of seconds.

   Now a fireball, that is a rare thing really but they do happen as well. Any meteor brighter than Venus (magnitude -4) is classified a fireball. A sonic boom happens when it ignites, passing the Earth. That night they were all about to see and hear... magnificent fireballs that will portend of times ahead. Like a fireworks show, it will be etched in all their memories.

   Atmosphere of our planet Earth is a very simple. Before we define our atmosphere lets first look at the four states of matter as we are discussing the planet Earth. We are made up of solid, liquid, gas and plasma. Plasma you ask? Yes plasma which is a fourth form or state of matter, where electrons are pulled, ripped from atoms leaving a cloud of charged particles. Now to the atmosphere. It is, relatively speaking, a thin layer of gases joined together. Nitrogen 78%, oxygen 21%,  argon 0.9%,  carbon dioxide 0.3% with a smidge of trace amounts of other gases in the mix. Now this thin gas envelope insulates our Earth from the temperature swings of extremes; it also traps heat in our atmosphere as well as providing us with a shield from the Sun's ultraviolet and solar rays. The entire atmosphere is only about 300 miles thick, yet 80% of it is here up to10 miles above the surface of our planet. It expands out from there to get thinner and thinner until it joins outer space some 300 miles out.

'As we see the frozen vapours in white flakes to fall when the Sun feels the Goat's extended horn, so through the ether rose, like flakes of fire, those lights triumphant. Not could sight aspire so high to follow.'
Dante Alighieri - The Divine Comedy

   That night life as they all know it shifted in a sudden warm, airy breeze under the stars twinkling eyes. All life was rained upon from just above the Earth, in the dust of many fireballs out of the Gemini constellation passing Earth with a liquid fertility spraying out into the Aquarian constellation of 2147. The fireball wave of energy carried the world swimming in great fields of restorative elements from far out in the Universe. Fields of plasma fields fluoresce surging through the air touching all life with an energy exchange. Humans, animals, plants, spirits, souls of Earth are all carried along in the neon fluttering dust fields of the powerful fireballs. Large particles of star dust illuminating souls ways in a transcendental energy exchange.

   The huge fluorescing clouds surrounding the bright comets fill the atmosphere of the planet Earth for 50 miles around the entire globe. Glorious white light bursts, blue, red shimmering gems all flashing fluctuating in a changing, growing beautiful Universe. All receiving in the furnaces of their lives an expanding Universe of Creations. The fireball winds blew real hard now, they all could feel the static, electrical warmth in the air burst.

   Up on the ridgeline the wolf pack is trotting out under the active skies in the brisk air, their breathing loud whispering of adventures felt in the wind. They too could feel the fireballs waves of hot air filling the atmosphere. They stopped running and laid down for the night. Lightning laid the cuttings of the 'perpetual hybrid' magenta red Rose Gallica cradled beside him as he laid down to sleep for the night, as did Francis and Clair with their rose cuttings.

   With the life span of humanity on Earth quickly approaching the 20 to10 year window with enviromental changes blowing past us like out of control greed or lust for power to total environmental collapse. So as good Dame Fortune, one of the Mothers, would have it, Nature's momentum now in dangerous entropy is caught up in the fire balls kinetic energy field this sacred night, carrying all life from Earth along in it's great wave. All as energetic life forms, movements in a living plasma of a new Earth, alive in ancient free cities of fluorescing lights now. A midwife bridge between hearts, minds and the 'noosphere' is come full circle, the net completed. Foundations of evolution carried forward in the fluttering flashes of a distinct species with new found abilities appearing, birthing into the next living new Earth incarnation. Dust from interstellar space floats in clouds. They have become conscious new life forms that they are not familiar with, inorganic dust particles organized in helical forms, floating like corkscrews, passing glowing movements of plasma clouds. In their own charged particles, fluorescing lamps of animated life creating anew as they move in the new Earth.

   The collective mind of humanity has moved into the 4th dimension of time, paradoxes of an objective reality laid to rest. (15) Time and change have now mixed to elevate humanity into the next phase of evolution. Blending into higher states of existence in cooperation with the comprehension of the unifying principals of the Universe allowing for the congealing of a new world view. The old earth is left behind in old time and space close by really continuing with it's volcanic eruptions, the North Atlantic Deep Water formation stalling, and cosmic rays flux in its upper atmosphere. In this 'new time' next to it the magenta red Rose Gallica, the great wolves and humanity continue evolving in the unfolding world's of expanding universes of consciousness.

   In this new world the mind and body work in the service of the heart of humanity. The politics of this world, the culture and the religion are guided by a shared mutual spiritual experience of beingness. The 'perpetual hybrid' magenta red Rose Gallica' filled the air with a fragrance that relaxed the beings, it made up the atmosphere of this world. No kinetic energy from incoming objects, no dysfunctional ecosystems, no nanobots eating this world up, no biological weapons to be found, no famine, fighting for resources or mass migrations, no wars for survival rather room for all beings. Inspired by Angelic Enlightened Resource Management and Social Architecture, no 'black hole's sucking matter from this world, no viruses, no evil robots or nuclear weapons anywhere or any trace of yedoma is found. Just the spirits of the giant Canis lupus occidentalis gigantis and the rare 'perpetual hybrid' magenta red Rose Gallica flourishing in the Light with life based evolutions.

   It is a wonderful place but it did have a feature that was new even to this parallel world of life. Providentially a shower is crafted that washes the twisting strands of the new helical forms of all hate from the souls that arrive here. The cancer of hate is washed away as the beings pass through an energy gate, the perpetual hybrid magenta red Rose Gallica is the disinfectant for all the negative baggage that human souls harbor.

   The Angelic Architecture of this world allows for interactions to occur inducing in life forms changes so that they can evolve into more unifying structures, leaving the dross of hate and odious negativity to fall away, with a prevailing consciousness of evolving structures in a neon flickering plasma. Inorganic conscious living life forms, able to reproduce and more importantly evolve in the prolonged dance of creation, like baby faces in the clouds of Venus plasma, free now from the shadow worlds of old earth hells.

   Particles of inorganic dust creates life anew, creative cosmic corkscrews spiraling in blue glues of shimmering dust intermingling with the scents of the pure red Rose. A world of freedom with its new forms of matter made of light plasma, a new picture of the human being, unimagined until now. This fabric of life vibrates through space and time as gravitational waves. The 'head the grave of our spiritual existence'(14) has flowered in the heart . An amazing grace space reveals an early virgin Venus self removed now far from the wars of Mars.

back in the magenta red Rose Gallica fields of great wolf hollow

   Sergeo awoke with the sunrise. He looked out from his tent, the air was still, quiet. He decided to get up, get dressed, button the tent up and take an early morning walk.  As he was pulling his pants up he looked out to see that already a lot of people were up and about. It struck him unusual as it was just sunrise and he did not remember so many people arriving the night before into the area where he and the others were camped.

   As he got out of his tent he could see that the people were all walking to look at something that was on the ground. He walked over the open field to a stand of some old cedar trees to see what they were looking at. When he got there he saw a large wolf laying on the ground, dead. No one there had ever seen a wolf big as a small pony. Some of the people seemed frightened, Sergeo could see it on their faces, probably figuring their were more of these great wolves in the area. For the most part the gathering crowd of adults and children, 20 or so people, were to dumbfounded to be scared for the moment. Everyone was completely amazed that a wolf could grow to be this large. It was beautiful however, with a coat that shone bright silver glowing in the morning light, a great dark brown head and angular long black nose, its partially open mouth revealed 5 inch incisors.

   "Look at that!" It was the woman from the forest permaculture workshop table that he had spoken to briefly the day before. She bent over the great wolf and removed a thorny rose stem with a dead red rose attached at the top, from the animals long toothed jaws. They all looked at the dead rose for a long time before the woman took a smell of the flower and said to the others: "Wow, what a fragrance." She handed the rose to Sergio who was standing next to her. As he inhales the scent of the rose he experiences again the clairalience or "clear smelling" of the scent that he had experienced in his dream several nights before. But why did this great wolf have it in it's mouth? Sergeo thought that the pure red Rose Gallica was possibly somewhere in the area, and that apparently the rare rose was watched over by these great mysterious hounds of an immaterial substance.  

   What happened next did jolt the crowd to a realization that this was not any Earth bound animal. As the rose was being passed around the wolf carcass began to decompose right before them. First the girth began to diminish, going flat to the ground like a pan cake. Then the teeth began to fade, then along with the skull disappeared. In a matter of minutes the great wolf was gone, only the rose remained. Not one hair or piece of hide or bone was left behind. 

   Then a howl is heard that was so loud that now the crowd of people knew that they had come upon an animal not of this material, physical world. The children hugged their parents, couples held each other closer and Sergeo looked at the woman with the blue rain boots with white cow clouds for a long time. He realized then that the beautiful, long brown haired woman was in fact allied with him and the red headed dream ginn on the quest to find the pure red rose. The howling continues for several minutes before it stops entirely. 

   Sergeo steps away from the group and decides to walk out into the fields around the camping grounds. He now faintly hears echoes of the great wolf. The pack up on the ridgeline is far to the north trotting in the morning fresh air and gusting winds, buffeted by waves of hot air. Lightning carried the 'perpetual hybrid' magenta red Rose Gallica in his mouth. Francis and Clair followed close behind with their rose cuttings...Giovanni and the 2 immature wolves Rufino and Pica follow. They gust along like the warm winds to healing hot springs with the tranquil blue, green waters. Limbs of the trees looked like dark long arms in the forest reaching out to them. By days end they would be at the hot springs.

   This day Sergeo is going to discover that his nursing superfluous fears like not trusting others or his unfounded phobias of failing global economies resulting in no markets for his fruit were like being devoured by great wolves. Debilitating and terribly limiting, never killed anybody in paradise, says his heart felt prayers at St. Victors. Sergeo's innate insecurities will have to be faced, the "meteorology" of his soul tempered, if he is to discover the 'perpetual hybrid' magenta red Rose Gallica and know love anew in his own solitary life.

   They walked into the fields a short distance. Sergeo had the rose in his hand and took another breath of the rare rose. He handed the rose to the woman with the long brown hair standing next to him now. "Sergeo." She looked at him then said "Sophie." She took a long inhalation of the rose as she turned to look out over the open field. The morning was so bright and the breeze was very warm Sergeo noticed again. "Look!" she calls out looking at a sky alive in color, reds, blue, with white round clouds of baby faces floating above them. "Now that's cute, babies floating in the air." They look at the floating midwifery sky then are drawn by an overwhelming sweet aroma, scents of the Mothers of creation.

   "Do you smell that! it's the same rose scent we have in this rose, now it's filling the air, seems to be coming from over there" Sophia says pointing out towards the end of the, unused fields. "Look do you see that?" she asked Sergeo. Looked like cedars and some Douglas furs with an understory of what looks like wild berries to Sergeo. "Do you see it?" she asked Sergeo again. "The stand of big trees? is that what you are referring to?" "Yes but the glow below, do you see that red glow?" Sergeo looked for a long time then slowly began to see a dark red, vermillion color emanating faintly then more noticeably as he continued looking at the spot she pointed out to him: "Yes I see it now."

   Many Red Golden and Ring Neck pheasants scurry across the open, untilled field covered in brown weeds. The young pheasants running, gliding in short burst of flight around their parents. It looked so beautiful, their colors 'sensitive flames'. Orange, yellow, blue, light pink  moving, undulating over the landscape like watercolors running to flutter across the open fields. Above them many paired up crows fly. Sergeo has not seen so many of the steel blue, black birds in a while. Things in nature seemed somehow different today. Sergeo reflected upon his 21,601th day on the planet Earth and figures it is a special day. The blessings of time, 2 times, here, there, are working through lifetimes now  and merging, enveloping them in the flux eternal of things transpiring in this moment.

painting of A Soul Brought to Heaven by Adolph William Bouguereau

You walker, there are no roads,
only wind trails on the sea.
Antonio Machado


   "I think I will see what it is. You can..." then he notices that Sophia's larynx is growing as he looks at her. She smiles at him: "Sure, lets go." She notices that Sergeo's larynx is looking more like a crab apple than an Adam's apple. "All the better to say what I need to say" Sergeo thinks, Sophia smiles, in
clairaudience he hears her laughing.

   They start out together, the mood so peaceful, light.  As if inoculated and surrounded from within themselves, grace and presence of mind protect them from the momentary hot flashes of fear they feel for the great wolves. Only impressions they experience are movements that stream like a river from out of deep cosmic space into the regions of the invisible worlds of the ethereal world, to finally rest in the air around them, with the fragrance of this rare red Rose. Droplets of sweet scents float in the air filling their noses as they approach the unknown source of the celestial fragrance from across the field.

A subtle shift in mood transitioned them to a sentient receptivity to a supersensible cognition of revelations filled their minds. As if going back to school, they were now learning to become sensitive to the impressions of the soul endowed being. The cold winters chills, and the summers heat, cycles of the season were now flowing in the souls of Sergeo and Sophia as they approached the thick berry bushes and the stand of great cedars and Douglas fur trees. A great living being was as greeting them to a cosmos endowed with a soul, from the springs and summers of nature's elements to the fall and winters of the self conscious soul. Like a blooming flower in nature passing from the seed to the bloom they passed out of their inner selves and walked as one into outer nature's mystery garden.

   In clairaudience they both hear a voice speak to them as they approach the stand of tall trees. "Learn to live in spring and die in the autumn. These are the cycles of the soul."  As they walk into the wooded glen they see two people embracing. It is Alberto Sobertinni and  the red haired ginn of his dreams. Red roses grow up great vines on the cedar and fur trees. Many beings were moving about in the enchanted enclave of roses and great lilac colored ponds for the healing ultraviolet spectrum. They then see the pack of great wolves, all of them gathered together, laying on the ground. The sounds of the wolves and their activity seemed to be directed at one animal. It is the great silver wolf that they had just seen disappear before them in the field. They are gathered around the great wolf as if greeting it after a long journey, and seemingly unconcerned about their own arrival.

   "You have found the magenta red Rose gallica Sergeo. Now my friends here" pointing to the gathering wolves, "are free to roam once again. You have fulfilled the wishes of the spiritual Hierarchy, the new colors and scents of the Rose Gallica are found once again. Now the planet Earth and human beings can feel and sense the healing winds and cooling waters of the Aquarius return, bringing order of the celestial and Divine back to the world of humanity." Peace is the impression of this world, goodness here prevails over ignorance and passion.

   Sergeo and Sophia look around to see the great wolves coming into the gardens. Many people began moving into the gardens. They were attending the permaculture forest garden fair workshop. Children, animals and birds followed close behind.

   Alberto looked at Sergeo and Sophia then pointed to his head. In clairaudience they hear him speak again. "The Earth is dying away. Existence is transitory and is moving into this new Earth..." They saw fruit trees, limbs laden with fruit of many colors. The gardens full of the red Rose gallica filling the air with their healing uplifting scents. "The secret to understanding the humanity of the future and reducing the catastrophes on the Earth now is this. Changing our head life into heart life." (14)

   Sergeo and Sophia looked at the couple before them. They are spiritual beings wavering in slow movements like flames looking more like ethereal beings of light. Alberto continued:   "The head is the grave of our spiritual existence. It takes up the forces that stream up from the Earth as we die. Then as the body falls away we pass into the plasma gravity fields that surround the Earth." Alberto smiled at Sergeo, who was with the red headed jinn sitting together besides a crystal blue clear stream that runs through the garden. He continues: "Believe this cuz, 'our spiritual aspects with our own forces' stream up from old Earth into our heads, then passes into and through the heart space of our cosmos to arrive here, the world of our spirit existence, the Rose of Paradise. (14) Wild I know, but that's how I got here cuz. Evolution happens by simply changing our head- life into heart- life, that's the way it works."

They looked at the gardens active corkscrews of energy flickering blithly in the breezes passing in the plasma gravity fields. Human Self development brings on the glowing gradually illuminating, blue blade of flame, irradiation of their own cosmos, with their own self-generated light of consciousness.

   "See what I mean" Alberto asked them. They were all glowing a light blue hue as they began to laugh. Sergeo could hear his cousin loud and clear: "You did it Sergeo, you found the magenta red Rose of Gallica on the Earth and brought it back home to the Rose Paradise. Thank you."

Sergeo turned to Sophia, her beautiful gray blue eyes looked into his brown eyes. She takes Sergeo's hand and moves with him into the rose garden, past the wolves on into the new Earth of old and a new time of times. The principals of spirit, soul have once again risen to the firmament. Between nature and Self the fragrances of the pure magenta red Rose gallica, love and compassion are resurrected once again to fill the soul of humanity.

It is a wonderous place, this place of gardens between death and rebirth. In this parallel world of gnosis mysteries the Archangels and Providence have created lakes of Spirit light, a light lilac blue as of lightening glowing. It washes the arriving twisting strands of new conscious helical forms, bathing them, washing sadness, disorientation and hate from heart broken lives, tirelessly troubled minds, the misbegotten and misunderstood. Now as cork screws of swirling life forms they surround the great weeping willow tree, its leaves shifting gently in an infinite number of breeze driven, piled one upon the next, then fluttering to reveal even more, seemingly endless numbers of willow leaves.

   The movements of fluctuating colorful life forms filling space with violet, red, yellow orchids floating about, visual physical vehicles filling these gardens of space with their celestial fragrances. Fruit trees lemon, orange and lime, fragranced wild grasses and flowers lilies, jasmine and rose surround them as they are awash and carried along in this sea of tranquility. As if their very source of light, their souls are now caught in waves of the fragranced plasma, bearing all existence along in gravity waves and fields of this fecund secretive, becoming new particles of essence for the 'meteorology of souls' journey along this flowering Earth streams voyage. Mixed in this joyous rebellion of scents is the 'perpetual hybrid' magenta red Rose Gallica to fill all returning souls. So close and parallel to old Earth: yet this new Earth is a world of experience away and wholly separate from the worlds of brute force of an old Earth.

   The Archangelic Architecture of this 'Rose of Paradise' allows for interactions to occur inducing in these life forms changes so that they can evolve into more unifying structures. Here the great wolves stand at ease and all beings are free to walk, float dance and sing angelic. The prevailing consciousness is of evolving structures moving about in neon flickering plasmas. Inorganic conscious living life forms, able to reproduce and more importantly evolve in this gnosis mystery of human's prolonged adventure of creation. Like baby faces in the clouds of a Venus plasma, the will is feelingly free for the impressions and prevailing moods of peace, futures creation and joy. A "meteorology" of souls struck, observing the shadow worlds of old Mar's wars fading away like the rising dust from rut worn trails to new worlds of peace and the creation of a futures paradise. 

   Here in this 'Rose of Paradise' numberless saints and souls surround the Mothers and Virgin up in the peaks of this spiraling, flickering world. The petals of the open red magenta Rose gallica beneath the great weeping willow tree's Infinity, its numberless green silver leaves shimmering in fine city swirling above red glows of the graceful red roses, so wondrous in the continuous processes of Creation. Magical tones carried in the red roses scent fills the air as, 'Over it a thousand angels making festival hovered and sang and sported; every one distinct in art and function, separately a thought of God created.' (4)

Spirit of the water
Give us all the courage and the grace
To make genius of this tragedy unfolding
The genius to save this place.
Shine - 2007 - 'This Place' - Joni Mitchell

Today a closed portal has
been opened
that which the serpent suffocated
in the wise-woman
is revealed to us.
Now the flower of the Virgin
is alight in the dawn.
Chants - (1098- 1179) - 'Today a closed portal has been opened' Hildegard von Bingen

the end


References used for 'Magenta Red Rose of Two Worlds' by Dominic Daley - February 29, 2008

(1) Wolfgang Goethe - discoverer of the color magenta in the late 1700's, given it's name by the scientist, poet.
(2) Carmina Burana written composed by students and clergy around 1230 in the foothills of the Bavarian Alps.
(3)
Joni Mitchell - Shine - 2007 - 'This Place'
(4)
Dante's 'Divine Comedy' - 
the Empyrean - the highest heaven
(5) http://www.luminanti.com/ascolormagenta.html - good site for an explanation about this mystical color, it has been the
primary resource for the color information in this work.
(6) Surfer dude stuns physicists with theory of everything - Telegraph "Garrett Lisi, 39,has a doctorate but no".. 2XT
(7) Alien life could be a gas - telegraph http://www.telegraph.co.uk/earth/main.jhtml?=/earth/2007/08/15/scialien115.xml
(8) Itzhak Bars of the University of Southern California in Los Angeles tells New Scientist. "There just isn't one
dimension of time but two. One whole dimension of time and another of space have until now gone entirely undetected.
(9) November 9, 2007 issue of Science Magazine the Yellowstone Caldera rose as much as 7 cm(~3") per year from 2004 - 2006
(10)  Under a Green Sky - Ward - Humanity manages to keep atmospheric carbon dioxide levels below 450 ppm (parts per million) by the year 2100. Earth warms somewhat, additional ice melts, but sea level rise is manageable and life goes on much as it has in the past - but any pending ice age will be indefinitely postponed. This outcome, as Ward notes, is hopelessly optimistic unless a massive initiative to limit or sequester greenhouse gas emissions is successfully implemented within this decade.
(11) Sensitive Chaos by Theodor Schwenk - Shocken Books - New York - pg. 130 -  " The stream of speech, like a flaming sword, pours fourth from the human being, announcing the inner secret of their creation. It is the "sensitive flame", issuing forth from the region of the will, on which the human being can impress their moods--the "meteorology" of the soul. But they also communicate this to their surroundings, which take it in through the activity of their listening; it is recreated in the receptive processes of the organ of hearing. The sensitive flame is the underlying concept both of the larynx and of the organ of hearing. In both it is the creative principle--an "organ" not yet brought to the resting state of form, but retaining its functional quality as pure movement. It functions in the intermediate region where forms are for ever being created; with its delicate sensitive boundary surface, it is a portal through which all the imponderable forces may enter into the the world of earthly substance.
(12) wolf photo by Debra McCann - found at Sacred WolfDreams' Spirit World
(13) One interesting example is the analogy given by Srila Sanatana Gosvami, in which the transformation of a lowborn man into a brahmin is compared to the transformation of bell metal into gold by an alchemical process (SB 5.24.17p).
The alchemical process itself is not described, and on the basis of modern science we might tend to regard such a transformation as impossible. Yet, the dictionary defines bell metal to be an alloy of copper and tin, and if we consult the periodic table of the elements, we find that the atomic numbers of copper and tin add together to give the atomic number of gold. Vedic Cosmography and Astronomy by Richard L. Thompson 1999 - Govardhan Hill Pub.
(14) 'Ancient Myths  - Their Meaning and Connection with Evolution'  Rudolf Steiner 1918 "We possess the head-forces that we have here on earth because our head is actually the grave of our soul-life as we led it before birth, or before conception. Our head is the grave of our spiritual existence. But inasmuch as we have come down to earth, the rest of our organism is adapted to make us resurrect, for it takes up the forces which stream from the earth into universal space, in order to form its spiritual element. And whilst our physical organism falls away from us, our spiritual part with our forces that stream out from the earth passes through cosmic space into spirit existence. pg.105 - "That present day humanity has come to such calamities is connected with the fact that it has lost the secret of changing head -life into heart-life. We have hardly any real heart life. What people generally speak of is the life of instincts and desires, merely that, not the spiritual element of which we have spoken. Today humanity lets what streams out into the universe just peacefully stream out, and they do not bother themselves about it. They pay no attention to it."  - America needs to understand this - the slight of hand, promoting democracy for corporations profitability, countries resources seen as blank sheets for profits, people as secondary to corporate profits is creating a living hell on earth for many humans today. Steady as she goes America, if we lose sight of the deep secret of changing head -life into heart-life we lose. 
(15) Our Final Century
by Martin Rees published by William Heinemann "Yes, he says, there is a high chance of a catastrophe, but he also wants to stress how much there is left to discover, how much life is left to be lived. For starters, we may well find new dimensions of space, and in doing so we could find parallel universes. He takes two pieces of paper to illustrate. He holds up one: "Imagine there are bugs crawling around it. They could imagine they were in a two-dimensional universe because they have no concept of up and down." He takes the second piece in his other hand and holds that above the first. "Then on another piece of paper you have another set of bugs in another two-dimensional universe and they would have no concept of the different sheets. So some people think there might be another universe just an inch away from ours but that dimension is measured in a fourth dimension that we can't move in because we are imprisoned in our three dimensions."
(16)
Dr. Bruce H. Lipton The third primary means of consciousness expansion, Lipton reasons, is the combination of fractal rung end products into the proto-products of the next fractal step. The eukaryote is the end product of the single cell fractal rung. When it was completed, the next step was the combination of eukaryotic cells into the first multicellular organism. Human beings are the end-products of the multicellular rung. What marks the completion of this rung? Level of consciousness is the measure. Probably, the key marker of completion is the development of "creator consciousness," the understanding that we "create our own realities."
Currently, we (humans) are very much in the process of discovering the facts of our "creation consciousness," all that to do with the various programs (paradigms) on which we run. The book you are reading at this moment participates is this discovery process. What we call Darwinism is a basal paradigmatic program, one on which Western civilization has operated on for over a hundred years. It is not so much scientific program as a political program. If the masses are convinced that existence is without purpose or plan, that "anything goes" and "anything can happen," then of course what's needed is strict top-down controls. Thus we have the so-called "New World Order," which is understood by many as an elitist conspiracy to control the world through control of economics, politics, and ultimately genetics and thought. www//.fractal.org/Bewustzijns-Besturings-Model/Fractal-Evolution.htm

(17) Jay Alfred - Between the Moon and the Earth - Trafford Publishing- 2007 - It appears that after death, most human beings will indeed find themselves in a higher frequency sphere which interpenetrates and shares the same space and gravitational field as the familiar physical form of planet Earth. Depending on the nature of their bodies, they gravitate or levitate into particular 'shells' in the relevant sphere- 'higher' shells being coincident with the physical atmosphere of this planet and 'lower' shells with the crust of the Earth and below it.
(18)
Saturday January 5, 2008, -SOLAR CYCLE 24 BEGINS: Solar physicists have been waiting for the appearance of a reversed-polarity sunspot to signal the start of the next solar cycle. The wait is over. Yesterday, a magnetically reversed sunspot 981 emerged at solar latitude 30 N, shown in this photo taken by Greg Piepol of Rockville, Maryland:spaceweather.com/
(19)
Gerald Celente, Editor and Publisher, The Trends Journal interviewed by Linda Moulton Howe - 'Economic 9/11'
"The vacuum is so big right now -  all of the institutions are failing.  You name it - education, health care, military, economic, medical - they are all failing. When the vacuum is this big, it could be filled with anything. It could be filled with more Fascism, bigotry and hypocrisy - or it could be filled with beauty, art, love and understanding and dignity and passion and respect. It's up to us to fill it. But people have to do it in their individual lives."
(20) Eugene E. Whitworth - Nine Faces of Christ - Quest of the True Initiate - Published by DeVorss Publications - 1993 - pg.113 "You spoke of the Tree of Life being upside down, with the roots being in the heavens and branches upon earth? The Sahu must be that which is intended by such a verbal symbol. When it is at last rooted in the Soil of the higher heavens, or the upper souls, it becomes a new plant. Then, slowly it begins that divine cannibalism which is so much shown in the god- structures of religions. It takes its own growth by absorbing and purifying its parent stock, refining it, raising it, uplifting and supporting it in a new dimension and a new realm. When the Spiritual Body at last becomes deeply rooted in the heavenly world, its growth is so swift it is seemingly instantaneous. This strange and important complexity you will understand later. But the Spiritual Soul must undergo much growth before it becomes firmly rooted in the spiritual bodies which grow out of it.  Indeed this is the Serpent of Wisdom which grows out of itself and yet feeds upon itself."
(21)
Kiara Windrider- 'Earth Changes - and Planetary transformation- the supramental awakening and planetary hope' " Sri Aurobindo, before his death in 1950, gave five indications that would precede the dawning of the New Era. To summarize them briefly, knowledge of the physical world would increase exponentially, people would start becoming more psychic, there would be a concerted effort from the dark forces to maintain control, the world would move towards increasing unification through technology, and finally, many would rise up such as Hitler with the power to influence large numbers of people. When I confront the ecological and political realities of our modern world, I realize that our 3rd dimensional problems cannot be solved through 3rd dimensional means. I find myself greatly comforted by spiritual researchers like Sri Aurobindo and the Mother, whose visions and understandings derived from a direct experience of a more expanded cosmic paradigm."
"We cannot remain in denial about the ecological and political realities on our planet. However, the pathway to the Age of Light is in affirming the new realities that are emerging among us. Somewhere between an ungrounded spiritual escapism based on denial, and a narcissistic preoccupation with gloom and doom, we can choose to intentionally and purposefully envision a brave new world based on the deepest truth of our being. In order to do this we must consciously face our own shadows, seek a genuine hope, commit to rebirth, and open to the light of our guiding truth."
"We can only go as high as we are willing to go deep, and it is often in the very depths that we find the greatest light. This is where we find the power and the hope to sustain us. It is only as we are willing to see and to embrace all of our deeply human fragmented realities that the light of grace can shine upon us. As we enter a new spiral of time, I feel that we will be seeing increasingly rapid expansions of consciousness on our planet, accompanied by correspondingly stronger resistance. As I connect with my deepest truth, I know that we will make the Shift, although there could also be many who choose to leave. The emerging consciousness may trigger the last dance of a polarized worldview, but we will override the third-dimensional ecological and political realities on our planet." www.experiencefestival.com/a/Earth_Changes/id/2343
(22) Rudolf Steiner - The Work of the Angels in the Astral Body of Humanity- 1918- "The Angels are the Hierarchy immediately above the Human Hierarchy itself. So the question is not unduly arrogant and we shall see how it can be answered. What are the Angels doing in man's astral body in this present epoch which began in the 15th century and will last until the beginning of the third millennium?"

"The Angels form pictures in man's astral body and these pictures are accessible to thinking that has become clairvoyant. If we are able to scrutinize these pictures, it becomes evident that they are woven in accordance with quite definite impulses and principles. Forces for the future evolution of mankind are contained in them. If we watch the Angels carrying out this work of theirs - strange as it sounds, one has to express it in this way - it is clear that they have a very definite plan for the future configuration of social life on earth; their aim is to engender in the astral bodies of humans such pictures as will bring about definite conditions in the social life of the future."
"People may shy away from the notion that Angels want to call forth in them ideals for the future, but it is so all the same. And indeed in forming these pictures the Angels work on a definite principle, (1) namely, that in the future no human being is to find peace in the enjoyment of happiness if others beside him are unhappy. An impulse of Brotherhood in the absolute sense, unification of the human race in Brotherhood rightly understood this is to be the governing principle of the social conditions in physical existence."
"(2) But there is a second impulse in the work of the Angels. The Angels have certain objectives in view, not only in connection with the outer social life but also with man's life of soul. Through the pictures they inculcate into the astral body their aim is that in future time every human being shall see in each and all of his fellow-men a hidden divinity.
And there is a third objective: (3) To make it possible for men to reach the Spirit through thinking, to cross the abyss and through thinking to experience the reality of the Spirit."

This ends my tale 'Magenta Red Roses of Two Worlds'. Perhaps we can embrace the Angel's goals for Humanity, cross the abyss that is surrounding us all at this time, and through our frontal lobe thinking, experience the reality of Spirit working in us for a better planet Earth for all.