So I met a bunch of fellas over an imaginary cuppa in a cool cafe called Gaia’s, with soft, puffy, white clouds around us.
There was a slim guy with longish hair & a crown of thorns; another with blue skin wearing a peacock feather in his hair; one with dreadlocks, tiger skin & a crescent moon; a bearded & ochre-turbaned man; another bearded fellow in pure white vestments; one with long earlobes, a beatific expression, wearing a robe & carrying his hair in a top bun; a grandfatherly old chap with a flowing white beard & a staff and another whose face was cloaked so I couldn’t see it. They looked vastly different from each other, but all had a similar, strange glow around their heads.
And when we got chatting casually, they all spoke the same language. What came out was something that was hard for me to understand. They asked, “Ever wonder why we haven’t ever been seen together? That’s ‘coz you earthlings always make coffee only enough for two. So we’ve got to take turns coming down with a different face in a different guise in a different place at a different time to share the brew. Why don’t you get out a largish pot and call us all over, so we can hang out, the bunch of us with a whole gang of you? Try it, see what a difference it’ll make!” Gaia didn’t say anything, she just sighed.
Anyone join me for a latte to explain?