Saturday, March 31, 2012

The great halo

A halo goes around.
Its silent steps all over
trample out the darkness. 
Under its gaze
creation reaches cremation. 
There is no stop. 
The march continues. 
A life is born.
Released slowly 
onto the four feet of survival. 
A tongue swoops down
reaching everything in one thick swab.
The umblical cord wears out. 
Splits, sprouts and dies into many. 
To join the march again. 
A life is borne. 
The halo goes around. 

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