Between the leaves

How do we quell the hum
of the fluidic demons within?
How do we ease the grip
strangling the empty stares?
It’s easy to miss the darkness
that creeps in at the corners,
or to mistake the moonlight
for sunrise if the melody is lost;
How do we pace a heartbeat
to match the sun’s metronome?
How do we trim the branches
into mysteries and questions
with room for time to answer?
And how will we recognize
the answer between the leaves
when we doubt all our eyes see?

(dtn)

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