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Thoughts

 

Thoughts fleet fly

            from leaf to leaf

                        as doth the butterfly

                                    gently alight

 

Be here

      be there

            come and go

 

Beeth it wherever

      except where I command

 

Passing before me

      charming mine wit

            image passing through me

                  then disappeareth

 

Behold now she reappeareth

      thine butterfly of thought

            controleth thee not I

                  though beeth thou art

 

How beeth if not I createth?

      then I have not thoughts!

 

Floweth past me thine music of eternity

      and all doth I do is picketh mine favorite notes?

 

Then maketh I nothing

      creator I be not

 

Be I but a picker . . . a chooser

      bringeth I mine choice into this world

            anchor of reality be I

 

I choose my reality but it be not I!

 

 

Thoughts

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