The Keeper’s Dream by Kiki Johnson
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À propos de cet audio
The blanket of death to keep us moving.To the call of herding spotted fawns backtoward clearing in deep woodland, wheremajestic papa waits. We are the keepersof the deep-down buried things.
We understand beauty’s need to wait inhush & hollow. To wait under fallow groundin the silence of stasis. The first thrustof the plow’s blade can be so horror-heavy.
So full of ache & wound. “You scar me”Ground wails. Ice angel yields to we watchersof the fields. As out of these furrowed woundscomes the beauty all our better angels knewwas there. The snowfields become meadows& yields of crops for grown bucks & fertile does.
Ground’s marring, the beauty borne of snow.
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