I ate the deer

The deer ate grass

The grass drank sun

It’s all clear

How it begun

Begging the question

I badger the witness

For the fiction of direction

It’s a grievance redress

Now the span of now and then

Places claim

On was and when

The whole and lame

One by one arriving

Embracing the twisted knots

In the striving

Of rooted thoughts

The breeze of evening

Differed not

From the wind of morning

Though they forgot

We carry light

We sit on air

We do and do not care

We are we are

The hands that turn

A shining star

That saw forever burn

So tread

Tread well tread sure

Release that dread

And release measure

For the throbbing of a great heart

Is the only source of art


We Pulse

© [Alexander V. Weir] and [The Fractal Journal], [2017]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to [Alexander V. Weir] and [The Fractal Journal] with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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