Beyond Living And Dreaming There Is Something

My Soul Is Not Asleep. It Is Awake, Wide Awake. It Neither Sleeps Nor Dreams, But Watches, Its Eyes Wide Open Far-off Things, And Listens At The Shores Of The Great Silence.

The Afternoon Is Bright, With Spring In The Air, A Mild March Afternoon, With The Breath Of April Stirring, I Am Alone In The Quiet Patio Looking For Some Old Untried Illusion - Some Shadow On The Whiteness Of The Wall Some Memory Asleep On The Stone Rim Of The Fountain, Perhaps In The Air The Light Swish Of Some Trailing Gown.

Wayfarer, The Only Way Is Your Footsteps, There Is No Other. Wayfarer, There Is No Way, You Make The Way As You Go. As You Go, You Make The Way And Stopping To Look Behind, You See The Path That Your Feet Will Never Travel Again. Wayfarer, There Is No Way- Only Foam Trails To The Sea.

Beware Of The Community In Which Blasphemy Does Not Exist: Underneath, Atheism Runs Rampant.

Only A Fool Thinks Price And Value Are The Same.