Discover A New Perspective
What makes the birds sing?
There! In their song.
What makes trees grow?
There! It is all they know.
What makes a man love?
Making the world put on a show.
Under trees and stars I walk alone,
My midday companion,
the tricky crow.
But when all the air is cleared,
And no man feared,
The truth begins to show.
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
