scared you

you desired differences

constant rebirth

you wanted the forest fire

you dreamt of new shoots

their pale flames slowly

un-scrolling their necks

raising their heads

from the ash

amongst the scribbles

of smoke


the truth is

everything is routine

always evolving

and revolving

in the free-fall

and the




the low-long

slow burn

a pinprick of silence

at the heart of the storm

cells whisper

as they divide

the spectacular

also resides

in the standing still













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