Earth is our univers,
Samanta, pronounced samanda sanskrit.
Our body breathe the air in this universe,
the air makes the blood run through our vains.
This becomes our life,
I breathe therefor I am.
One univers merges into another,
they become syncron
The ground we walk on feels our feet,
we wonder is the world round or is it flat
The ground is our mother,
the moon our grandmother
When we feel ill, our joints might ache, maybe a fever comes,
our mother is not a mistake
She gives birth to our nurture, yes those fruits she carries,
yes those savoury berries
Heals our insides, so walk very wary,
cause we need her also for our minds to us carrie.
You might call it superstition , but then you are blurring my great vision.
Of us planting trees in a garden full of bees.
There we can live in peace,
cause nature gave us the foundation so we could be at ease.
Daughter laying in a hospital bed, not eating, vomiting, praying for better tommorows....
those free of all such sorrows.
Mother feeding her with home made remedies,
things from the garden of earth.
Even smothies and other lodis.
Slowly she starts to feel more at ease,
vitamins , minerals, naturals giving her body peace.
Cancer they said,
cured by a mothers remembrances of her ancestors mancer.
Elements living around us, to guide us into samandas.
Samandas of life, so that vi can prosper.without a surgical knife.
