The outline of the branches
Dusk
A grey November sky
Haunting and stark in it's beauty
There is life in the darkness
Just as there is light in your soul
In spite of the same
Small moments
In the silence, we pause
The sacred lies between the lines
In the wind it speaks
Some can hear it, tho' it is always there
Whispers in your ears
Into your spirit, caressing your soul
And you do not know if you should rejoice or weep
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