The wind among the trees,
the birds flying leaving
and taking their shadows,
here and now trying to keep
at bay there and then
and the mystery how the two
need each other. How I am
nothing without you, you
nothing without me,
how two make one,
the paradox of time
and eternity. Suspect
the prayer – “Not my will
but thine” – has nothing
to do with surrender but
is a battle cry right
before a victory.
The way two make one
and nothing’s lost.
-Byron Hoot
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