Come gray the days

fantasy_surrealism_landscape_photo_sculpture_photosculpture-p153590902431210096qdjh_4006Come gray the days

Come gráy the dáys and gó,
Long áll go dówn to sléep;
Love álways yét belów
Thís in my heárt I kéep.

Ónce agaín I’ll sée you
Tíme for the fírst agaín,
And sáme the wínd will blów
And ráke us sáme the raín.

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3 thoughts on “Come gray the days

    1. Actually, the poem is not about reincarnation. It alludes (poetically) to the doctrine of Eternal Recurrence. An idea first suggested in Ancient India, later taken up by the Roman stoics, and finally made much of by Nietzsche in ‘Thus Spake Zarathustra’.

      There are some ideas that are not to be taken seriously but are put forward as theoretical possibilities only. In a poetic ‘what-if’ way. Eternal Recurrence is one such idea.

      Two other such ideas, even more bizarre than the idea of Eternal Recurrence — i.e., the idea that the same life is relived an infinite number of times identically — are Multple Alternative Universes and Time-Running-Backward Universes. These are not to be dismissed as science fiction nonsense. They form part of modern physics. For example, the time running backward thesis, hypothesized with equations, won Feynman the Nobel Prize for Physics in 1967.

  1. Berenice –

    I am not familiar with the doctrine of Eternal Recurrence. It seems it would be something to avoid – if one were to resign oneself to eternal repetition. Therefore, I can see no reason it would be embraced. (Of course, I am assuming that most religions and philosophical doctrines are usually embraced for hope – rather than despair.). (Of course, too, I am assuming that eternal ecurrence would be eternally BORING….)

    Rather, I look at this poem and sentiment as having been written by one who is anything BUT boring – and would not abide that in herself. She has lived “past lives”. I believe that – or choose to. (I obviously do not know her – and you most likely know her.
    You have the advantage over me; but I am, nonetheless, pleased with this piece of poetry!). I am going to look up your own, too, dear lady.

    Now, I must haul my bohemian ass off to the farm. There is about four hundred acres more corn which needs shelling… (GMO stuff. My cousins and I have pledged to plant at least a hundred acres of non-GMO next year – for certified milling for human consumption. I think there is a market demand!)

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