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There was a time,
I could rid all I had gathered,
and speak to the trees.
To the wind, to the water
to the sun, to the soil.
I knew their names.
. . .
When the wind would sing,
pines would sigh remembrance,
and the streams would weep.
Ev'ry stone, and ev'ry leaf,
all the thrumming birds and bees.
I knew their names.
. . .
Though I knew it was a dream,
I could see beyond my reach.
. . .
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