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May 2016
'

*I see the sky
through barren branches,
twisted and bent,
grasping at clouds,
naked in the light,
swaying overhead
on winter’s chilled breath

Below me
in the slumbering earth
deep roots
hold on to the soil
beyond yesterday’s footprints,
burrowing for life, stability,
far from peering eyes

Running my hands
across the coarse bark,
craggy imprints
sculpt memories
of bygone seasons
when saplings dreamed,
when I dreamed

As I gaze upward
following the patterns,
crooked lines,
knotted intersections
all with their own purpose,
each a piece of the whole,
embracing the elements

I realize that life
must have a meaning
whether reaching or searching
and though I feel alone,
desolate within my own forest,
I now know that
the sky sees me too
Stephan
Written by
Stephan  Camp Johnson Crossing NW
(Camp Johnson Crossing NW)   
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