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Listening Deep

I listened deep to the sound of lake waves and disgrutled bull-frog croaks.
The horizon remains a strong line till it disappears, the dimmest fading light of a long lost sun can gracefully illuminate the silouhette of the silent mountains.
Ripples from the kayak's slender paddle create crayon scribbles against the black water - fading into the unknown distance until once again the bare slate of the lake returns.
Brilliant stars poke through the canvas above - neatly aranged in their predetermined, unfaltering constellations - party decorations for Earth's unending celebration of Life.
Life of the moose, the human, the beaver, the lily-pad, the lavender, the bumble-bee, the waters, the salmon, the oak, the bear, the land.
Lives which weave in and out of eachother for eternity, forever mending and dissolving our quilt.
Mindlessly, I paddle back to shore.
Llisten to the croaks, the ripples, the wind.
Remember what I had forgot.
In silence and dark, walk home.

4 Sep 06

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