...and I will leave. But the birds will stay, singing:
and my garden will stay,
with its green tree, with its water well.
Many afternoons the skies will be blue and placid,
and the bells in the belfry will chime,
as they are chiming this very afternoon.
The people who have loved me will pass away,
and the town will burst anew every year.
But my spirit will always wander nostalgic
in the same recondite corner of my flowery garden.
The Definitive Journey - C. Castaneda
I have only dreamed of Kristy twice since she died. In my first dream we were both on our knees as if we were gardening. She had on her blue jeans with her hair back the way she always did. She had a smile on her face and seemed happy and serene. She put her hand on my shoulder and looked at me lovingly as if I was a child. She told me "I have to go away now. I want you to have this." It was a book on gardening.
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