The green earth resists patience. The green earth bets on spring. The green earth occludes in the jamming space of time. Do you have memories of planting, yourself? Effective vision of radiant impulse applies. Waiting simply concedes. The energy of process grinds in chlorophyll. All time and then some time. It takes a bit of reflection to spot the formation. The whole green of green populates a thought. A triumph, you may say, of instant, living. You have time to say sorry, you have time to restore. The greening elegantly stretches. Time becomes a bit in monstrance, no other language applies. That love is the creature itself, green as the gaining. However the practice, picnic in a grove, astonished restart, the language full of words for what. Here is the resonant and complex, daily flash green on green on applying green.
The work becomes chiding of sunlight. The work is elegy and shaded. The principle ciphers as a god, in the way transience is purpose. Transience works this brief, ending fields, making trees concern. The hell of halting midway identifies the work of burning thru. Forever makes a sign. Sign makes worthy. Indeed the tramp of feet forward concludes any sentences but suggests more. Long sentences, stupid words. The caroling heard by Dante, brilliantine remorse for a better tide. The long road up from down, and turned around. The work then becomes the work now, as stained glass similitude. Anxious in the class structure of catastrophe, the baying song over all. Nothing to do but be done. Ruskin gave you papers to remind you. Slow battering concedes the earth in time. Time being functional and oblique. The worker inside sees the nation by exhalation. Transitive connection sports of culture. The class that ends becomes the class that begins, both left and right.
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