This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.
[[preprinted]] [[underlined]] April 5 [[/underlined]] [[/preprinted]] [[no entries]] [[end page]] [[start page]] [[preprinted]] [[underlined]] April 6 [[/underlined]] [[/preprinted]] [[sheet over page]] Harmony - The moons rays lighting two forms on the rocks beneath the pines. An occasional words between spiral rings of smoke. Peace. Conflict - A blare of trumpets - Reverberating Call to arms. Quickened pulses or a slim youth in a crystal pool [[strikethrough]] so [[/strikethrough]] Fast [[strikethrough]] Even [[/strikethrough]] sure strokes carry him to the opposite bank. He laughs - youth is conflict. Slowly the man walks. [[strikethrough]] to the [[/strikethrough]] down the pine fragrant path. He passes a crystal pool. And smiles.