The soul comes from without
into the human body,
as into a temporary abode,
and it goes out of it anew
it passes into other habitations,
for the soul is immortal -
It is the secret of the world
that all things subsist and do not die,
but only retire a little from sight
and afterwards return again -
Nothing is dead;
men feign themselves dead,
and endure mock funerals…
and there they stand
looking out of the window,
sound and well,
in some
strange
new
disguise -
into the human body,
as into a temporary abode,
and it goes out of it anew
it passes into other habitations,
for the soul is immortal -
It is the secret of the world
that all things subsist and do not die,
but only retire a little from sight
and afterwards return again -
Nothing is dead;
men feign themselves dead,
and endure mock funerals…
and there they stand
looking out of the window,
sound and well,
in some
strange
new
disguise -
4 comments:
I want space for strangeness to enter, all these perilous and puzzling and dazzling thoughts and images of yours.
it's all yours - just reach out -
:)
i thank you so much for your words -
When I think of you, Jenean, I see all the images on your blog. The colors, the energy, the sheer vivaciousness of an ancient soul.
oh, hello trish - how wonderful that you take the time and energy to drop by and leave notes such as this - bringing much needed sunshine to the shores of delaware today - and every day - thank you!
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