An Only Other Way
For we who are passing through the Way
Is only always passing through today
And tomorrow is as before the harrow weft we wore,
So many rays are there to be and so
Who else is there in place of me to go
Somewhere other chase to catch a breath before
Everything that seems so sure flies into some pure nth degree
It is yet is not just what it is one may not suppose or may
Be,
Is only always passing through today
For we who are passing through the Way . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2019-07-12 at 10:29
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