aka "Rambles of a mind short on sleep and tired of war reports on TV"


Intertwined

Hand-me-down molecules from
the millennia before last, each one
a prostration of the fourth dimension.

Perhaps, supposition is dangerous -
but I think you have some molecules
that were once mine. Just ask them
if they remember me.

Cycles of life all interconnected,
each intersection a miniscule
reaffirmation of wondrousness - we
are all one.

Intention is a world away from
perception. Just as you are
your own world, and I am mine.


Now, will someone go explain that
to the guys at war?




Poetry by Arti
Read 516 times
Written on 2007-05-13 at 15:46

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