Dwarf Star
There is this there is that, there is thereOnce upon a long ago that is somehow always now
There was Light
Oh, Goodnight let there be:
Ah and there was, after a fashion
Universally or so it has been written,
So much happens that never really was
Rather only appears to have been
Reckoning has it.
Spirit ghosts into sudden windows appearing like hidden thoughts revealed as something
Someone said to someone else who was only after all much the same as self
Sound is like itself and nothing else is to be heard on that matter,
Radiant things moving on and through seen and unseen surface depths
Creations become from unknown being and after fall into taken for granted poses
This is akin to astral magnetism repulsed mightily by some overwhelming attraction
It may take a while to sort things out
Why, is there time?
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2020-02-18 at 02:38
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