Vines


Tender tendrils

Climbing

Growing

Always reaching

Holding on

Finding ways

Wandering and 

Winding

Slipping through

Wrapping

Loving

Tangled

Spiraling 

Over under

Encircling

Binds

Boundless

Up 

an unknown 

Constellation,

Whispering 

words,

Your words,

My words,

Maybe old words,

Maybe new.

Old vine

New growth.

 
*It is said vine can be the loving teacher that will liberate all, not my words, others’ words, maybe our very old words.

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