Not the doing but the deed…
I will return. You have not seen me,
But mind is the precursor of the sight,
And in the vision’s mind I will contend.
Flower of the intellect, I watch the far:
The distance yields to me, and I transcend
The traveling wind. Orbit of the earth,
Who is your true star? What love
Is furnace for your fire? In every truth
You’ll hear my voice, but like the whisper
And the tickle of the whiskers, the flower’s
Buzz, the envelope of matter’s fuzz.
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