my path is growing altars of moss
sacred eyes of the vernal forest
hidden behind the eyelids of leaves
kept alive by the resin veins
caressed by the silent voice of the wind
their nerves shiver – their hearts brims with cradled dreams
which bloom with viridescent tears

bleed the moon on my altars of moss
silver streams carrying the stardust
sinking deep into the womb made of roots

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