One day in The Woods

Sketch

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The woods have a story to tell. From  leaves, the green trees, grass to dry leaves, twigs and dead cut tree barks. There is a cycle. A story from birth, growth and finally death to be reborn. Reborn again with freshness of dawn but also with wisdom of previous day.

So I ask the woods  with newness everyday and wisdom of yesterday how do I be reborn? Or is it that I am gone stale? not fresh neither dead? Or there is  hope? That I exist and grow beyond the stale and decaying…….

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