The Wishing Tree

I sit beneath the Wishing Tree;

that place where dreams can be let free

I sit in silent Meditation;

I am the King of my own Nation

go to the Gods, my dreams I cast

into the mix of futures past.

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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