P N C O

Mostly photography, with the occasional philosophical contemplation

21: All clear

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Soon all will be clear
Bare trees remind of the fact
We’re all born naked

Stretching our being
Branching into ground and air
Longing warmth and food

Sheltering within
The ever presence of mom
As we learn and grow

Independence calls
Us to grow to great new heights
Let mom and dad go

The cycle goes on
Each new family member
Is like a small tree

Finally we reach
For the top of the forest
Seeing miles ahead

Our destiny clear
One day we’re naked again
Waiting for our death

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