I always hear your voice. Like living stones I sit and listen through the muffled sounds of water running down a stream. Others have you of the persuasion of hags. I do not play with hag deer. I prefer childlike meanderings through an endless forest of green sprinkled with spots of color from flowers and foliage. Ruined arches weathered by the sun and rain echo the patter of dancing deer feet while mother goddess silently watches. I listen for the sound of angels. Is it time yet? Will there be a gathering? The hum of the tree comforts me while the splash of the water intrigues me. I hear your voice as well as others. It is always my choice which I respond to.... just as it is yours deer.