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flowers of our thoughts will meet...on a silent empty beach.
And this will happen somewhere in the Future on a silent beach...with no Fear.
this part made me think of having multiple people sit down on the beach discussing philosphies with that kind of music.
Originally posted by piequal3because14
If I were a seashell I would rest on an silent empty beach alone with my thoughts next to a sea flower and I would kiss that flower to make it the flower of my thought.
And this flower I will keep it for me untouched without droop so that even after I am gone she will live in another seashell as a legacy of my mind.
This beautiful flower is real and is yours like the words that you wrote here on ATS.
And after you will be gone these beautiful sea flowers your legacy I mean your words will be taken by another seashell from which beautiful flowers of thoughts will rise to be kissed and kept alive until....
flowers of our thoughts will meet...on a silent empty beach.
Originally posted by blazenresearcher
reply to post by Wang Tang
Ha ha...everybody Wang Chung tonigh!
Do you not look at a blade of grass...grasshopper... and know that it is thy home.
Do you not look at the morning dew drop and see the world reflected within it's almighty globe
Do you not smell the salt air and know your lungs are alive
Do you not know the treasures that surround you..dear king.
Do you not see the song of a bird, or hear the whisper of a tree...
Oh...Gee, I just made up a poem...carry on
Originally posted by Wang Tang
Originally posted by blazenresearcher
reply to post by Wang Tang
Ha ha...everybody Wang Chung tonigh!
Do you not look at a blade of grass...grasshopper... and know that it is thy home.
Do you not look at the morning dew drop and see the world reflected within it's almighty globe
Do you not smell the salt air and know your lungs are alive
Do you not know the treasures that surround you..dear king.
Do you not see the song of a bird, or hear the whisper of a tree...
Oh...Gee, I just made up a poem...carry on
I look at thy blade of grass, home of thou grasshoppers, and step on the blade
destroying the blade of grass, and with that, the grasshoppers home
to my pleasure and delight the grasshopper dies a meaningless death
a fitting end to a meaningless life
I look at the morning dew drop knowing it will disappear by noon
The reflection of the almighty globe gone with it
Temporary just like the grasshoppers life
I do not smell the salt air for I taste salt before I smell it
I know my lungs to be alive simply by living
I know not of any treasures that surround me
For all of my treasures are within me
I cannot see the song of a bird
For that it meant only for my ears to hear
And I know for a fact that trees can't talk
And even if they did we could not possibly understand
For how can we, human beings
relate to creatures of no meaning