To reach into the vastness of space, to gather up the dust of decaying stars, filling the sacred pipe, as it overflows with the soot of a thousand burned out suns. To reignite their fire under the pale moonlight, as the spirits dance again, their sparks flicker and flame, as the smoke pours out over the edge of silence. With each breath the light of the world grows nearer, as the day breaks overhead. The prayers are received by the passing clouds that blanket the vast range that expands our view.
– Josh Fleming