take my hand and climb with me…

one hundred and forty degrees: ‘until then…’

I’m Not Talking ~ A.C. Newman

one hundred and forty

Cycles, change. This impossible, life. Rooted, in earth. Yearning, for heaven. Slow process, from one stage. To, another. Tree starts, as seed. Grows, tall and strong. Only, to fall. Gradually sink, back. Into, an underground womb. Gestating, in darkness. Wood, becomes coal. Eons, pass. Gravity’s tactical, trickery. Heat, and pressure. Relentless, oppressive. Until molecule, by molecule. Light, seeps through. Ancient arbour, heart. Transcends, fate. To blaze, as diamond. Forever, fire.


It’s always been a long shot or worse…

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This entry was posted on February 17, 2013 by in Summer and tagged , , , , , , .


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