Uprooted

 

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The ebb, the flow

a rip, a current.

Stark contrast living among deep unity.

If I could see the trees ache.

I  would anguish for them.

But, as is the forever case…I am too late.

Misery has arrived and there is no place to hide from it.

Sadness…laying there on the backs of all that has fallen.

Taunting me…

Playing with the idea that my help would do some good.

In the stillness of a chirping chorus…

the bleakness of human stampede…

In this earth, of this earth…

I would be mistaken to believe.

Believe I can hasten the bitter and sweet…

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