Seeds Of Promise

If I speak to you,

In cotton tones, 

And bring down rain and crystals and stars,

Bury them deep, deeper; till the voices above, can no longer shape, can no longer scar,

My gift to you,

Will you spare a hand, and help me grow, 

This tree of ours, 

In the heaven below.

Author: TheHumanAnvil

Dust made alive

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