Majestic limbs reaching for the sky,
capture a breeze that whispers in the night.
Ancient wisdom drawn from deep within,
deep within the core of a circle
and I can hear her heart beat.
The constant tick of life within
like a strobe light if quickened,
day to night, and night to day.
Just as the rose is just a bud
moments later she blooms into beauty.
While at night I catch the falling stars
before they are no longer there
to shine mystically.
Before the lightness crowds and opaques
the beauty of dark cloudless skies.
In the day I spend time with the roses
enhaling their sweet fragrances
before they shed their petals like tears
and leaves turn from greens to rusts
and before the snow flies.
She is in constant motion
like the flowing waters that never cease,
from season to season, and day to night.
From a baby's cry that quickly turns into an old man's moan,
she moves forth in constant dance.
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