Somehow a seed is created; a spark. It is nurtured into a green flame that grows to a verdant blaze; burns in the rain and under an encouraging sun. A living thing, leaves as flames; throwing sparks into the wind; cast far and regenerating another green fire.
Thrown far, the whole world burns, and we, who live on plants, warmed by them and nurtured; lovers in dance; consumed and returned into the ground to become the kindling and substance for those flames.
The whole world burns.
Inflicting thoughts on unwary readers so that I can improve my tyqing skills
Friday, August 07, 2009
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About Me
- roberto kiam borderlineartist@gmail.com
- I live in a quaint, little town, plagued with the specter of speculation and commerce. I am trailer trash,with wishes for good dishes. I shoulda died long ago, but like a rescue dog, didn't. I am indescribably scattered. I speak three languages. I walk a tenuously, true path. I am lucky. For myself, for others. God, it is said, protects orphans, widows and the innocent.
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