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she wanders into my soul
so effortless
sweet and easy
like sunshine
on a sunday afternoon

she feels the raindrops falling
can see the silence calling
and steals the love
from my heart

divides my soul into equal parts
and kicks the pieces
into a hole
that she has dug
just for me

with her eyes.
How meaningless life appears to be  
When Love withdraws its comforting ray;  
Harmony turns into entropy . . .
Chaotic impulses have their way

Though the sun rose to announce the day,
It matters not that it rose at all!
Darkness prevails when Love goes astray,
The shore weeps, though the tides rise and fall

Should a deluge submerge hill and dale,
Then oceans be scorched by the sun's breath,
Without Love, such calamities pale
When compared to solitude's slow death

Nowhere else in the vast universe
Can the harmony of Love be found;
So at every chance let us rehearse
Love's sweet symphony - Let it resound!

For Love is all that really matters --
And there is no doubt that life is grand
When that wall of loneliness shatters,
And Love walks beside us, hand in hand
on an enchanted summer evening
the world feels wonderful and meek

why do I still crave more
     than I can feel and seek

why do I need to go beyond the pastoral
    trust the smooth surface
     of this world
     only for blissful moments

feel almost something like relief
when daily imperfections
crowd me again and throw me hard
into the maelstroem of those obligations
that have accumulated over years
tell me I have matured and know
what all life really is about

but also loudly shout
     I do not know
the meaning of my life

yet I envision in the hour of my death
my last breath will flow easy  
      with no strife

remembering the summer evening
I‘ve spent my life to seek

so wonderful …
      and mild …
            and meek ...
1158

Best Witchcraft is Geometry
To the magician’s mind—
His ordinary acts are feats
To thinking of mankind.
1400

What mystery pervades a well!
That water lives so far—
A neighbor from another world
Residing in a jar

Whose limit none have ever seen,
But just his lid of glass—
Like looking every time you please
In an abyss’s face!

The grass does not appear afraid,
I often wonder he
Can stand so close and look so bold
At what is awe to me.

Related somehow they may be,
The sedge stands next the sea—
Where he is floorless
And does no timidity betray

But nature is a stranger yet;
The ones that cite her most
Have never passed her haunted house,
Nor simplified her ghost.

To pity those that know her not
Is helped by the regret
That those who know her, know her less
The nearer her they get.
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