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A faint, restless rustling of rain
rushed through the dark of the first
morning of March. The earth stirred
and the wind turned and turned.
Soul searchers stepped on soft ground,
squinting to find hints of light,
a soothing sound to guide them home
like children at night,
looking to be found by a parent
to be held close and safe
as day slowly breaks through misgivings
and we return to the living,
our souls intimate with each other,
relieved to awake again.


By Rüdiger Rückmann

Written on 1 March 2017
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