Daily Bread

From beneath the rounded rock came a stare; a marvelling at its glow.

As each day brings forth its new appearance, the light ebbs and flows.
The darkness shrinks and it grows.

Then comes the night when all is quiet.

All is without shape or form.
And the loved have dry wood for bone.

Time is a thing not known.

The love calls out into emptiness with only an echo calling back.

The axis turns. The swaddling band protects.
The chords of Orion held. The water recedes.

From beneath the rounded rock came a stare; a marvelling at its glow.

DailyBread

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