Walking home through the woods,
moon's silver knife stabbing
the pine, a blue mist hovers
just below the longest flower
like a witch's spell. Here I am,
a solitary human stepping over
rocks and vines as if I know better,
as if I have a sure destination
to which I belong, as if I have
been pre-ordained. Let me stay
within the mysteries of nature,
become one, the fragment of a circle
that never ends.
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