We are on definite, clear ground. A concrete world, solid.
But around us are golden wisps swirling,
timeless truths, woven stories.
Children are knitted to it,
their worlds tumble naturally from the unseen,
crying out,
diving into the depths, intense grapplings.
We can reach out and grab these golden threads,
breathe and fly within them, shining.
We can conjure, flourishing.
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