The universe knows the secrets though, of sinister plans of the past to dim the shining light of the first born of every bright star. Now, and only out of desperation do they sing a new, loud and bawdy tune reminiscent of past atrocities exposed by the melody of corruption. Yes, the universe knows the plans to end that which never began. Or did it? And only now are we seeing the fruits of our seeds sown? But, which seeds? And, can we see and think clearly enough, with calm and foresight through the darkness–resisting the fear, moving with caution and confidence, while wading through the confusion in order to cultivate the flowers rather than the weeds? Who will protect the dim lights, reticent to shine too brightly, concerned that peaking too soon will snuff out the seeds the universe plants for the survival of the planet? A Daisy Mae flower blooms in October. A rose of Sharon smiles back. You’re safe–in a harbor alongside the seeds of the plan. The world chose you–and did so–correctly.