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Two hawthorns
Apart and together
On a bright horizon
Each in their own ground
But leaning in
towards the other
Topmost twigs
Intertwined
But not quite touching,
Each just in
The others space
From a distance
One beautiful tree.
Have you noticed
how the buzzard soars?
Holding air light
Beneath his wings
Its not the work of flying
Takes him high
But the rising air
Lifts him.
Let the beauty
Raise you
I'll let the beauty
Raise me

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