I am of this Place

I touch the Earth
And it is real
Through my fingers slip
Grains of this world

 

Breaths of fresh air
The feel of tree bark
Grass underfoot
Not the emptiness of words

 

Hindsight is precious, though fleeting
Reality is pure
As I hope to be

 

I am one
With what is real
I am of this place
I am of this world

 

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