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Jun 2014
This wilderness,
                I aimlessly wander through.
A deep breath
               The air, it holds a tangible primitivism
I follow a beated path along the brook
               As it guides my directionless saunter
Stillness of mind and habitat coalesce.
Dragonflies dance with my eyes
               As I ponder their surreal spirits
Loneliness is liberated from every definition
Identity is lost in the harmonies of every root and leaf and songbird
Begone to all the names and labels,
               Now
It comes in the abstract waves of shades and colors,
               Now
This wilderness,
               One organic tellurian phantasmagoria.
This wilderness,
               A warm ablution for the cold comfort of my reality

As it humbly sits
Just beyond my backyard picket fence
Waiting.
Written by
Atlas Gruene
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