dancing between what the light has captured forever
and what shrinks from view as if timid with shame?
be enigmatic
be desired
be the wished for
the dreamed after
the lone star
that blinks and disappears
within the breadth a whisper
before it dies
If all time is eternally present All time is unredeemable. What might have been is an abstraction Remaining a perpetual possibility Only in a world of speculation. What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. Footfalls echo in the memory Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden. My words echo Thus, in your mind.
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