Poets, or: Sages

My first Terzanelle

Beginnings bring inevitable ends
It's oft said the fourth dimension is time
Beginnings bring inevitable ends

Poets struggle to find reason in rhyme
Our endings birth beginnings for others
It's oft said the fourth dimension is time

Fulfillment is too often another's
Some would bleed themselves out onto pages
Our endings birth beginnings for others

Futile queries of ancients turned sages
Only spiritual rhythm matters
Some would bleed themselves out onto pages

Of bodies naught remains but mere tatters
Peace exists in only three dimensions
Only spiritual rhythm matters

Though some may cleave to other pretensions
Peace exists in only three dimensions
Beginnings bring inevitable ends
Beginnings bring inevitable ends

35 thoughts on “Poets, or: Sages”

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