May 19, 2009
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It’s late,
There are shadows on.
And the winds dance a tale.
Something’s different.
A sting in the air.
Coming from all sides.
Blissful sprites fill a hollow
Where the birds sing in the day
And the flowers sway.
As the sun descends, the moon rises anew.
Keeping fear afar.
Swallowing doubt
And breathing life.
Those sprites keep the hollow
And keep the stars un-hidden from the clouds.
They keep the joy,
They keep the peace,
They keep the shadows,
From sealing each.

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