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Nature's Divine Canvas
The world paints without asking your theology.
Sky does not sermonize. It changes color and expects you to notice without applause.
Moss on stone — not blessing, just patience with slower clocks.
The canvas is not asking to be called divine. You are the one who needs a word for being moved without being saved.
Thirteen is old enough to like the painting and distrust the frame.
The moss keeps its own time.
JV · Dark Heart Labs