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The Complexity and Simplicity of All

The rooted roots, movements bounded
Life impossible otherwise
Swaying, playing, changing colors
Blooming gaiety to gloomy twigs
Where is the life in withering
Standing subdued in confinement
But the smile to the greens, the flowers, the fruits
The beautiful sadness of the barren
Has an overwhelming worth
Keats had it put in words
"A thing of beauty is joy forever"

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