Restoration

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I come to sit

            In the Sacred Circle.

In solitude

            I seek, I meditate,

I explore my Soul

            To eradicate

The structures within

            That seek to restrict

The path set before me.

In my mind’s eye I wander

Through the past

Of vast wastelands

To seek the old bones

That feel smooth to the touch,

Yet, are solid as stone.

Though bleached white with time,

They send shadowed reflection,

Like faint ripples that shimmer

To seem silver in sand.

I set to the task

            To gather together

Each piece important

            To the whole.

I lay them bare before me

            Building from the beginning

To complete the circle,

            To restore the old life

To regain the new.

            For in the continuing circle

There is no end.

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