The good witch, the angel witch, walked over the grass that day beneath a cloud-layer that let through the sun. She paused to as a good thought began to blossom, feeling the familiar sensation in her brain, the one that told her new ideas were on their way. Perhaps it was this pause that gave a chance to see a black Alice band at her feet, simple and homemade. In a moment, after examining it in the sun, she put it in her jeans pocket. Her thoughts resumed. Yet soon a green caterpillar was upon the path ahead, she stopped. It matched the vision she'd had only days earlier, the one that had come when she'd asked God to tell her of hope, of future. She placed it in the greenery next to the pathway, safe and sound, hoping that there it would have a greater chance of becoming a butterfly.

That is how the universe spoke to the angel-witch, in simple words and images that connected to her culture and the things that sparked joy in her soul. That's how the angel-witch realised a new wonderland was in progress, a heaven or "divine golden age" as some may say. The world would need the courage of a caterpillar, to enter its cocoon, to emerge as a butterfly does, having undergone the kind of transformation that is only possible when mother nature is trusted to do her work on you and through you.