Unburied Papyrus

Embroiled in the enigma of existence in more strange & unsettling times, one must hold onto the miracle or risk becoming one of the walking dead. These entries are a poor approximation of my life & the wonders that pass through my spirit. If I could communicate properly how much I love you all & assign a tireless list of evolving names that fit I would, instead I offer these random reflections.

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Listening to the Quiet

Soil grows warmer.
Seed splits.
Beneath the surface
green climbs.
Before an expression forms
muscles fire.
Harmonize.
What climbs forth
forges subtle
& ongoing
changes.

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