A symbol, a sign, the nock of an arrow
Units of time, creep to Halcyon days
A lexicon, whetted, too early, too tardy?
Shakti sits knitting a blanket of leaves.
The sapling shakes awake in the forest
Primrose blooms proudly, ahead of her time
Though compass divines an unclear direction
No tempest shall alter spring's sap rising high
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