Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Circling in my mind

Completion is relevant
to the amount of times a circle is closed
to the number of page folded out in a book
for rereading. It is easier to reach
a closed roundabout of the essence
of beautiful, by assuming
all things are created
set to be whole

but when the wind whistles
in the small hours, dead of the night
some are awake to count the stars
thinking, not everything, nor everyone
is set, or ready, or complete
when you, most glorious
are whole, one could be missing
and when one could be missing
another sprouts out, whole
like a century old tree.

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