Saturday, December 15, 2012


Ron Koppelberger
The slender stalks of wheat knew the wont of those who cherished natural care. They would concern themselves with the harvest and the garner, by the need of man and woman and child. The saffron ripples moved in harmony with the land and some arrived, yet some sought the other the will of fire and the will of destruction.
The wheat remained in overtures of nourishment for the blessings of what would come, yet still the land would be parched with flame, divided by two both dark and light. But for now the wheat remained and the fire stagnant, yet to be.
The horizon went on for an eternity giving birth to dreams and saffron yet desiring a harvest of sustenance, knowing the spirit of wheat bloom and the heart of men. In the midst of the day the sky sang gentle tunes of warm wind and bright yellow gold, waiting for the souls of those who would be among the blessed and the damned.

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