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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.
Copyright ©
Caren Krutsinger
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