What has been need not always be what is.
There is a sense of time that must erase the world that is what was and built the now.
Against such force, what armed and booted thugs can stand and keep their sense of distance from the truth?
What is and always seems to be the stone against which endless, mindless flint is drawn?
The world may still endure the flames and from the morning’s ashes rise a phoenix.
What will be must evolve from what it is.
There is no secret alchemy of fire to draw out from a well of empty space the light that has no heritage of dark.
06 NOV 2025
© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.
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