The rain that falls upon the thirsty ground;
The wind that dances with the grass and trees;
The sun and moon and stars that twinkle ‘round;
The reverence that brings me to my knees;
The ferns of frost painted upon the leaves;
The peace and stillness in the dead of night;
The words upon the page that set me free;
The power that was birthed in me to write;
That I am me ne’er ceases to astound;
It all is magic, mighty and profound.
Beautifully expressed.
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