Poetry by msablelulu


The world in which all us, including scientists, are born, work, love, hate, and die,
is the primary phenomenal world as it is and always has been presented to us through our senses,
a world inwhich the sun moves across the sky from east to west,
the stars are hung in the vault of heaven, the measure of magnitude is the human body
and objects are either in motion or at rest.



The thought that someday yet,
In flesh, not dreams , I may return again,
and at those altars, set
In the pure skies,above the smokey plain,
Remember and forget
The joy of loving and the price of pain.




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