Blips
Electronic bodies traveling on,
Here to there,
Each its own purpose,
Each its own place to be,
Passing by each other,
Disappearing then there,
Blips then solid objects,
Covered in an ethereal cloud,
Then out into the sunlight.
Blips
Electronic bodies traveling on,
Here to there,
Each its own purpose,
Each its own place to be,
Passing by each other,
Disappearing then there,
Blips then solid objects,
Covered in an ethereal cloud,
Then out into the sunlight.
The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)
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