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Mandala

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I am a fast flowing stream, flying through the mountains
The color of humor
I flow into ocean and a hurricane whips up
destroying houses and land
Finally it comes to a rest and
feeds the ground
The grass springs up, green as the sea around it
The grass drinks on the air
Someone picks the grass and throws it into a fireplace
The fire is roaring in Africa
warming hearts and bodies
A flute is playing in a hut
soothing troubled minds





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