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The Cycle 2: Dust
Dust pulls upon dust; pushes upon dust
and each drifting, spinning mote
collides; all drawing closer.
Meaningless time passes
and pursues; blindly following
The unbidden remnants
of endless darkened eons.
The cycle renews.
Distant lamps illuminate
the unbound; a tapestry weaving,
twisted looms ever working.
Ancient hands unseen
forms a blooming canvas.
Ethereal nature; forever vulnerable
to blind destruction;
to the interlopers. Behold!
The Sleeping Giant.
Behold! Celestial gods aflame
Driven core; fusion of old bones
cracking flares again.
Distant fanfare sparkles black
Recognition of novel life,
unknown without shadows,
flock-less; a novel cycle,
become a shepherd,
spinning in endless gas; dust.
Copyright ©
Nathan Wilson
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