October 25, 2009
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Through the tunnel of rock lies another stream.
I walk towards it with heavy boots that crush the leaves,
Leaving a clear path.
Rippling, flowing, it snakes through the trees.
Dipping down, I rest my hand in the cool water.
The stones underneath are as smooth as the keys of an ivory piano,
And the ripples play the sweetest song.
A cluster of feathers soars overhead as I carry on the road.
As the light on the tree bark fades to black, the wolf runs past.
He knows where he is going, and pays me no attention.
I step out from the sea of trees that encircles me
And once again, I find myself

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