Poetry

But that:

Oceanus, as all things, revolves in Time,

Moved by Eros and Erebus,

As Helios and Luna, whose union brings forth both

The rosy-fingered Aurora and the dark-browed Nyx.

And in the rapid Spring

The sweet Daisies spread their fragile charms,

Beckoning to each passing Bee,

"Oh, me! Oh, me!"

Elsewhere lies the bed,

Now cracked and dried,

Wherein once a proud River did flow.

Now departed.

That History is indeed a Nightmare,

But that all things pass:

Sunshine in the Arctic,

Snakes in the grass.

But that the Pole Star does not move.

And behind the dancing Masks of Existence,

And the heavy curtain of Space-Time,

Moves the All-Inconceivable,

That All-Out-Of-Mind.

Robert T. Tuohey
jadedragon61@hotmail.com
http://jadedragon.250x.com/welcome.htm