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At each brush stroke, blooms unseen; just as the wind bird songs paint syllables of longing across fields alone--nature might perennial wherein creativity finds echo of its dark cradle. - Elise Greenfield At each brush stroke, blooms unseen; just as the wind bird songs paint syllables of longing across fields alone--nature might perennial wherein creativity finds echo of its dark cradle. - Elise Greenfield At each brush stroke, blooms unseen; just as the wind bird songs paint syllables of longing across fields alone--nature might perennial wherein creativity finds echo of its dark cradle. - Elise Greenfield