Everything has a rhythm. A facet drips. Done properly, ores move a boat forward. Two pieces of metal bounce off each other in synchronized concussions of sound. Things that are stationary and inanimate mimic the quality and requirement of our lives but do not in any essence explain to us their mastery and beauty of their rhythm. We are left to our own fumbling deviant devices in the time and space of our lives. With our actions choreographed, defined and foretasted by our past and futures.
We are living breathing creates with opposable thumbs and a much better means of communication, but a pine cone seems to do a better job of living, thriving and dying...
We are living breathing creates with opposable thumbs and a much better means of communication, but a pine cone seems to do a better job of living, thriving and dying...
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