rosa moonshine I'm home. I had a great ride home. A man sat next to me. I'm not sure if it really happened. He was dark skinned, indian man from the lower mainland part of Mexico. He asked me if I knew about the moon, we talked about spirit animals, and life. His name was Alejandro Angel. I gave the book to him, and bought him water. He showed me pictures of the forest he had drawn in his violin journal. He was on his way to Portland. I've met him before, and there was something profound there. Something completely natural and destined, if anything ever is. 011105 what's it to you? who go blather from