Slow Burn
Forward momentum shuffles desire
from conceptual states to real;
the leaves on the boughs glow with autumnal fire,
drift down to the carpet of grass.
In times of transition a slow burn proceeds
until spring bears the fruit of rebirth;
the gestate of feelings trickles and bleeds
like rainbows of oil upon glass.
Steps beget steps and before one knows
the travel of vision begins,
traces of footprints on virginal snows
follow the dreams to the lair.
Walk slow beside me, holding my hand,
patiently keeping my faith;
perhaps we will see from the place where we stand
how we made it from here to there.
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