Bella von Einsiedel
Life in you is an incurious madness.
Tell me, how good is life that is not known
And is but felt, like wind against the temples,
Like touch beneath the feet, of turf or stone?
But do not hear me, lover of life; an answer
Is burning like a sorrow in my breast:
There is flame in feeling, fineness in the knowing,
And who shall say which way of life is best?
Pass on, seeker, seeking the touch of spaces.
Many the ways of life, and many a one
Is all too brief a fluttering of hours
To serve our purpose here beneath the sun.
Hazel Hall
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