It is all perfectly complete,
even in growth, change and decay,
completeness finds a way.
The song of the running brook
disappears in the twilight,
yet it continues to sing.
a billion light years away,
where a quiet watery rill
slips over sunny rocks,
completing an end with a beginning.
I am resting my head in the sky,
my back against a shadowy tree,
legs extended into...
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