A tree stump exposed in the middle of the road
longing for shelter from the gathering clouds that rage
he cannot stop the drops that fall upon this lesion like electric blue slate tears

Looking up he sees the fate of the world in his inky reflection
“Get out the way, get out the way!” they cry to him in melodious harmony
leaves and matted moss whirl around frantically, urging on the passer-bys to escape

But he knows, there is only one way out
only one way to escape the whirling destruction of this phase
to embrace the sticky tendrils of tarred life that keep him firmly planted in the ground
even after all this time, battered and abused
healing strength of the world is his race

Everything will rise and fall and pass away, even death
everything but the connection between the heavens and the earth at his fallen feet
so dreams, reality, this way encased in dirt eternally stay
this will remain, salvation an only meaning in end as he remembers himself.

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