The lightning in hot pursuit.
Burning, the flame, the lantern
Straining, the light, the pattern.
The earth, its quakes, its moans
The ice, its breaks, its groans
In birth pains, or death bearing,
The pattern on the sleeve worth wearing.
Flood of the necessary
The root more important than mentioned.
The pattern worth repeating,
Throughout the pattern of existence.
Worth wearing through the fabric of all time,
Woven into the depths of our being,
Our essence, our seeing,
Specifically, there was no mistake.
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