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The entire landscape changed.
A wildfire swept through and erased every feature of what there was before.
Now there’s nothing, and your singular seed dominates the flat horizon of my vision.

The weather changed later, the landscape changed first,
so I can’t say the former caused the latter.
Now I stand stunned, trying to take in the sight of everything gone,
before taking even one step toward rebuilding what I saw alive only yesterday.

Destruction precedes creation,
so the blaze that visited that night is not entirely unwelcome.
The seed awaits fertilization for an entire jungle to grow.

In the meantime, however,
At this juncture, in the nothingness between destruction and creation,
possibility dances hysterically in the empty vastness.

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