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The Promise

4/18/2014

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Blossoms tease the senses now,

Budding as they are into first bloom,

Predicting to the birds

They might soon have places to hide,

And to the bees, some work to do.

To we who watch it all unfold,

A promise and a reminder

One more round begins.

And isn't that the message?

Everything, everything, has a rhythm

And--even us--

Goes in cycles,

Which always, always,

Begins and ends

In this moment.

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    j. david gray

    Using a pen, a sharp tongue, and a sense of humor.

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