The sequoia angel is tough and soft. Reddish and warm like a Viking’s beard. The sequoia angel has a head full of mantras. The sequoia angel has roots in the thermal source. The one Hercules blessed. We meet in the underground, the angel and I. But first we have to pass through the guardian of the woods. The one with a strong chin and a sulking face. The maidens that never grow old serve him. ‘The gift of nature,’ he says, ‘is the greatest gift. Don’t waste your time looking for presents. Give earth to the earth, and ashes to ashes. Make symmetry flow and smell the green path. And listen. Wherever you go I go.’

La Multi Ani, Bent, from Herculane, the source of many things.


Popular Posts