Wasteland

Nothing grows there

But rocks and dust and debris

Rain never falls

Frozen at room temperature

Solid and unmoving

It’s not death

It’s not life

Stasis

Eons will pass

before there will be change

growth

We pass through it

on the way to our heart

Crunching the past underfoot

searching always

for depth of soil

moisture

In the forest shades

And bright meadows

We plant tears

tending sprouts like newborns

leaving behind

all that will not be needed

in this next step we take

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