Of all those flower power windows I have written about to you, sometimes they can seem kind of hard to see through. For they have become habituated, unconscious widows, seventy-seven years old, blemished by acculturated voyages, and the daily grind of make-due residue, residue that must be washed clean and cleared by Inter-faith correction: By a consciously chosen Spiritual inspection of each of those half remembered, half forgotten, half buried, wins and loses, flower power laughs, regrets and crosses. So . . . . . . flower power windows shall I continue to view through, until I move on . . . until I groove on! And then perhaps, choose another flower power name, and who knows, perhaps run into you somewhere again, my flower power friend. Perhaps it will be there: There . . . just beyond the karmic bend, where flower power never began, where flower power will never, never end!