Shadows of Succulents

Shadows of succulents surpass my seeing self I lie on my back, admiring the seductive symmetry How does nature manage to secrete similar signs Is there a mystical, magical, movement in her roots? I am at a loss to know; feeling like a voyeur, peeking up into the sun-list sky, secretly wondering. How does mother nature keep everything in sync? She has a spiritual dance that sings soul into her succulents. I am quietly contemplating this, sequestering myself in her shadows. Spying a scene, I could not imagine from any other perspective. I am silent, enjoying the shadows, and the symmetry.