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(from Within My Illusions)

the way we make wishes

by spreading the seeds

of a weed.

the way sunlight dances

on water like rain,

shimmers like fireflies

between blades of grass

that grow in the lake.

the blurred edge of land and water.

the way rocks appear black and barren

as they jut from the ocean

and the way flowers grow

on those lifeless stones

in tones of amethyst, jade, citrine.

the way charts can predict tides,

but not patterns of movement

as waves rebound off the shore

and one another.

the way salt in water can both soothe and sting.

the way my heart can hold a wellspring of grief

and also the feeling of being a bird in flight.

that it can go to the depths

and still find surprise and delight

in the sweet-tart nectar of a freshly-picked peach

as it drips down my chin, the tears

as they drip down my cheeks.

the way vulnerability can be powerful,

emptiness complete,

and darkness illuminating.

and the way that I and we

are one and not

the same.

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