That fierce green fire dying in her eyes; speaks. You mind thinks; thinks crude and gross control, the works of which is your way.

Without those works you say there would be no green fire. Are you sure, oh man?

Our ending age is occurring. The reversal of mistaken over control. A reversal shall be a blessing, a grace, misunderstood at first.

Her green eyes say, “love and let live,” and, without pleading, she foretells of reversal. Yes, back to whence you came.

Oh man; you do not have fineness of measurements nor of stimuli that effects outcomes; like nature.

Without God’s good auspices you, oh man, are incapable of controlling yourselves, let alone nature.

Look up, look about, see it is so. With gentle measures, drive yourselves to save this green earth.