Told by someone wise
that the world would soon grow small,
for soon
begins the pruning.
That fear can pass as wisdom, (the neuron shears
culling tracks and cutting turns and severed memories)
But the heart knows different;
That life expands, vast and past the sky
carves riverbeds with fervour
sends up new shoots to thriving canopies
and pruning will not tame
the wildness of its love.
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