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poem by Ruth Salles
Student drawing from Waldorf Araucaria School
towards the light,
the forest dances a ballet of trunk and branches,
shake the leaves right where we passed,
and far it leads us.
Flowers fall to the ground,
or fruits, and the seeds are buried
on the way where we pass.
And the heart beats,
everyone's, mine,
the forest where the rhythm rises to the air.
There he is in dancing and singing!
A hymn ascends to heaven!
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