There is beauty in the wreckage. ⠀
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Trees fall, get pruned, cut down. ⠀
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Stacked in piles waiting…. ⠀
for what? ⠀
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There is mystery in their fallen presence. The moss curiously expands, spreading its green across the trunks, seeking ways to catch the light.⠀
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Indulge. Invade. Devour.⠀
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We are fallen trees, so many. ⠀
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Cut, pruned, torn, left in piles. ⠀
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Broken, yet embraced by beauty. Left for future seeds to find, to climb, to be reminded.⠀
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That trees fall. ⠀
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Humans fall. ⠀
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That there is beauty in the wreckage, and life continues to evolve. ⠀
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Though the truth seems ugly the sunlight gleams with love, over the unsightly, over death and dark. ⠀
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The shadows fill with mystery, the wind making them dance, the stories of their downfall are told to seeking eyes;⠀
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When we think ourselves invincible.
Karma comes for us. ⠀
We’re brought down to the ground. ⠀
Reminded we are one.⠀
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Though the wound is painful, and we mourn the loss.⠀
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The world remains beautiful. The earth and life grow on. ⠀
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@DorotheaLucaci