So much we do not learn, and think we ought,
of places where we dare to set roots down.
What is the colour of that leafy crown?
And what the bird that in the light is caught?
The things we see around us are all fraught
with meanings deep enough for minds to drown,
but ask a question and you'll get a frown
for we live in a place of is not ought.
All stories come together in the end,
and every quest, we find, turns out the same;
knowledge and mystery a single light
will shed upon all matters we intend
all human purpose is a giant game.
We say our speeches, and we say goodnight.
Odd ravings, comments, and other wastes of time. Some are in plain prose, yet others are in rhyme.
17 October 2007
South of Eden
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