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Unlike fences, we
don't grow together
Roots of love fade,
and paths diverge.
A mother's womb,
Like a ripe field,
yields fruit.

- a newborn.
October morning
Life ruffles us often
like a tree shrugs off
its dry leaves.
I yearn for a lotus leaf
drifting and merging
with waters that gently
flow into a sacred grove,
where paths route
to heaven.
When unable to conceive,
don't say,Β Β 'I cannot bear
the heat of the sun emerging
inside' rather, say, 'I could
not imitate a heart
as pure as God's.'
Her wounds were stitched
with threads of patience,
And from the hurt,
a moon emerged,
A glowing orb of light.
I'd bury embryos of faith
into your heart to help
you remember God,
"the seed granter." β™‘
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