Satori au soleil.

The ice blue cool sway
        of breath from my bones on the brightest day,
            as backwards sycamore, spinning
                Back, back up to the branch and Beyond,
        a hem of syncopation fluffs and frays in a flourish
    and betrays the un-synergetic singularity of craft and cause,
 Creator and creation meet and are one and always have been.

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