once again and always

I asked myself (aloud) yesterday,

with some bemusement

of peace

and hope

and life sewn of the two

and peace was determined

to be the irregular little stone with the pale white stripe

tossed aloft and plummeting

whilst then and there

a slug approached

the next centimeter of path, warming

all the while

the grass stiffly oversaw

and burst with verdancy, yearning forth

at once with

the ancient air bewitching clouds

like slower, softer stones

and all told

of their way to be

at once again and always

and that, again,

is hope

so life is

once again and always

or so I said (aloud) to myself yesterday

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