Report after report of children, animals, nature, the very soul of innocence, divinity, grace itself, abused, tortured, maimed, murdered; the young enlightened women, spirit free, weeps. Tears stream down rose cheeks, collecting in pools of sorrow, into which it seems she may fall and drown. An ancient sage, her teacher, from the sacred place in the woods approaches and lifts her chin gently to look into his wise kind eyes and asks, "Why do you weep my child, have you forgot all that you have come again to know." The women whose face radiates a sublime purity that would makes even Angels green with envy, stares back at the sage with a deep empathetic intention to match his own and answers, "Oh no my beloved mentor, I have not forgot the truth of LOVE I have remembered. I know that it is all that is real, source; all else is creator's creation, infinite illusion. The tears that flow are not for me, but for those who suffer because they still believe this to be real, having yet to choose to remember to see and the pools my tears form are not for me in which to fall and drown, but for those who come in my dreams, asking to have their souls cleansed of the self cast spell of vanity and forgetting, that they too, with the truth of LOVE remembered, may again be free."