Discover A New Perspective
What a lovely fool,
Who preaches like a tool,
Dream on precious fellow,
For life is good, and the sun is mellow,
The wind carries us in arms most gentle,
and you and I breathe and whisper, all is mental,
All is void,
All is nameless,
All is formless,
All is.
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….
