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Late autumn forest yellow gold leaves thin silver branches drawing white semi-light into crawling root darkness-not-darkness waiting-not-waiting for spring winter nothing dead nothing reborn tomorrow wind bent rattled touched hands forehead pressed into something TREE not solemn wise divine bone blood organ chakra signals to-from minds all hidden born moved returned hidden born moved returned
A feeling so simple
in semi-darkness, diamonds
filtering through spruce boughs
and distant treetops;
makes me wonder
when the effort all began.