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Vegetation

 O never harm the dreaming world, 
the world of green, the world of leaves, 
but let its million palms unfold 
the adoration of the trees.
It is a love in darkness wrought obedient to the unseen sun, longer than memory, a thought deeper than the graves of time.
The turning spindles of the cells weave a slow forest over space, the dance of love, creation, out of time moves not a leaf, and out of summer, not a shade.

by Kathleen Raine
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