Discover A New Perspective
Rain drops on the window;
Telling you something you can't know
Like grass, the water grows.
Leaves fall, with nothing to show.
Ask, and I will say nothing.
Sing, and I will be humming.
Move, and I will be still.
Rain falls on the window,
Speaking that which you already know;
The water, like the grass; grows.
When the muses leave, what is left but silence? The abysmal comfort, the unending sleep- when the muse leaves where I go to find it? With what rapture, what song- may I sing now in the day that lasts
The wanderer, the seeker All are all the weaker For they fail to see the world’s telling brand The simple sound of one hand….
I wonder, I wonder If in the depths of our slumber, We ever dream to cease our ceaseless number. Perhaps our questions are naught but answers, Perhaps answers are naught but questions, Our pride is pr
