Unfounded

The hunger for blessing
For the father to speak
The parables of the mother
With this inhalation we come in
When not gotten
Germination’s contortion
All toward the living
Soon the seed rots
Feeds on the self to painfully begin
Early transmute
Returning
Returning when the time is now
Meant for remembering

Our world is heavy with
Souls turned early to returning
Many waiting for the turn
To remember

 

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