Forever Changing, Forever the Same The sun is in my eyes casting its westward shadows. The stillness, like emptiness, can can suddenly come alive. Or tease in that way of what has been to be again. Which, of course, all things do but do so differently over time. I am a simple man, believe in simple verities, knowing things are never as they have been though always among us -- like love: that apodictic reality in the plethora of eternity holding what is constantly found and lost and stories told about, the ambrosia of the Divine and the Human forever, forever never leaving things as they are.
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I love the language of this poem— “simple verities,” “apodictic reality,” “plethora of eternity…” These phrases are used so naturally and yet are so powerful.