In the Smoke of Many Fires

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In the smoke of many fires

we rise. Our signals are

are read across the far reaches.

Morning by morning, taken up,

taken in, braiding skyward with the

wild dream spilled out into

star fall flaring silent four

billion years, resting here,

cooling, revolving,

wettening, conceiving,

generating, incubating, cultivating,

nurturing, caring, loving its own

by its own nature. Its consciousness,

we, waking, returning the dream,

becoming it, rising,

morning by morning, in the

smoke of many fires.

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