Alaska's coldest Summer.
Luckily, I'm having hot flashes.
The well of my soul is deep.
I rise to the challenge of expression.
Manifesting the mandala of my story,
is a bucking bronk, itching to be told.
The sacred ritual to find the time,
is being pulled upward from
a pure source.
Beauty has come to me.
I will do this right.
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