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The Cathedral of Trees

I move through the cathedral of trees to a place that both quiets and stirs my soul. The ravens overhead ever in attendance at this service they call home. The choir sings their serene song: the breeze whistling through the branches-- the harmony, while the river rushing over the rocks-- the melody. The trees give way to the sanctuary and there I take in the shining, melodious waters I offer up my penance, four-count casts in a series of perpetual hope for a rise not just for

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