We are deceived by the shadow, we see not the
substance of things.
For the hills are less solid than thought; and
deeds are but vapors; and flesh
Is a mist thrown off and resumed by the soul, as
a world by a god.
Back of the transient appearance dwells in inef-
fable calm
The utter reality, ultimate truth; this seems and
that is.
Realities
Don Marquis
(1)
Poem topics: god, truth, world, soul, shadow, ultimate, reality, thrown, thought, substance, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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