Hoar Frost
Sometimes,
conditions create
gems
out of fog
and chill
and darkness.
What seemed
an endless, wintry
unchanging
one morning greets us,
flashing fractals
of illumination,
transforming
self-similar patterns
into
crystalline
truth.
“Fractals of illumination” Love it. Laura
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I’d like to put this poem up on my wall. And read it every morning. To start my day with, “transforming self-similar patterns into crystalline truth”.
Thank you, Tricia!
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Thank you, Fleur! 🙂
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