© Charles E. Corry 1964, 1999
Come, through the myriad eyes of time,
Let us gaze on multitudes of random faces.
Poke listlessly among ash old worlds,
Where friend and foe alike have perished
For concepts whose meaning has now gone.
Peer curiously into young new worlds,
Where children laugh, and trees
Lift to greet the morning sun
Before the fall of woodsman's hand.
Come, along divergent paths of being,
Let us wander into crevices too deep,
Or scale cliffs too sheer to watch,
Abstracted, the topple, fall, and stop.
Let us wander through pine forest,
To baked sun desert with whippoorwills for harmony.
Stand in streams until rocks
Of progress surround us, then run laughing
Until nowhere joins us in company.
| Home Page | Contents | Index | Comments? |
| Chapter Poetry |
| Next Leave Taking |
| Back Insanity |