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The Blessing of the Trees (1/10)

I came to the woods
harried and drained
weary and thirsty
to seek the blessing of the trees
in the breeze came their whispers . . .

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Birdsong

A cool morning breeze stirs the treetops
A swarm of midges become fireflies in the slanting light
Cottontails twitch their soft brown ears
   but hardly pause their breakfast as I pass by . . .

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