MARY WALKER
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MARY WALKER
Poetry for your essential self
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Perfect incomplete

 

Like mountains
driven up,
eroded,
every day we rise
and fall back down.

Emerging in space,
held by time,
releasing the past
for something new.

Always arriving
and on the way out,
we are the perfect
incomplete.

 
PoetryMary Walker26 May 2019growth, actualisation, consciousness
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