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Aug 2013
Morning rips forth

from the womb of night

it's first cries echoed
in bird song
buzz of insects wings,

it's tears adorning spiders web
and yet un woken
floral heads

Mother Earth
adopting Midwives role...

up the sun

letting his gentleness
of breath

become the welcome breeze
that carries soft


first word.
Written by
soul in torment
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