poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

The stars are filtering through a tree
outside in the moon's silent era.
 
Reality is moving layer over layer
like crystal spheres now called laws.
 
The future is right behind your head;
just over all horizons is the past.
 
The soul sits looking at its offer.

Added: 30 May 2002 | Last Read: 22 Oct 2026 9:07 AM | Viewed: 4231 times

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