Filed under Poetry

A Mind in which matter
Not Matter in which mind
Becomes, what only matter can be
Oh no, matters not what mind brings
For Mind is limitless matters
And limitless minds
Of all sorts — you, me, sitting under a tree
A beautiful Summer day, naked
Matters little, matters not, for matter is not
Thought is that which matters in the Mind
Mind pervades nothing — no thing at all
Yet no thing is not nothing
Neither, not a trick of quelques mots
Ni majuscule
Something other, that which brings identity
It is identity that matters within the Mind
For what matter could be anonymous
(Except in the dark minds of the confused)
Even confusion Mind brings
For how else is it possible to sing?
All that matters is the matter which Mind sings
As it silently sings: “mehr, mehr, mehr”

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