GloMag GloMagMay2019 - Page 170

As April sets tongue into a spin evanescent crystals keep it moist. Seasons too pass into the void but Life beats in a murmuring glen. It’s beside a copious, swirling river does a humane culture vibrate. On its fecund bosom a mélange of green cradles a protective cover. If asphalt invades every nook and alley evil breath scorching out all green to the call of money, power and what not, the plaintive cry is of the waterless lily. Those crystals are the rubric of soul. If they are lost it’s too late to cry foul. 170