"Life is made of both..."

Life is made of both:

The rigorous, the slow

And in seven woven days

We are complete.

All men have their flourishes

And some even their loves,

But past the weeping gates

We are replete.

And so we must give pardon,

The joyful head forgive,

When without the willow trees

You find conceit.

The ache of birthing freedom,

The loveliest of pains

Belongs alone to melancholy;

And thus we shall repeat.

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I'm looking for the medicine, love. Haven't you seen it here? The fronds quiver and the sun whispers. But I'm looking for the medicine; my belly is empty. And haven't you seen it there? It has a name

that beauty shadows on the grass moon; hand; dance come alive, remember you, remembered reborn, we cannot sleep dreams have no answer but deep, close to the heart they say be seen, dream with one anot