Good morning Mister Magpie. Good morrow little Moon.
I’ll be off on a boat to sleep.
To see the world in a thousand turns in one not so huge a leap.
One brain twain two worlds
It’s not too queer a thought this mechanical ride.
Language leaps but synapses sleep
and nothing can be formulated in to sentences of deep.
But what one means is so obvious
but what one tells is not so obvious.
The barrier can be a thin sheet
Parting two realms
And when it snows it shines
Thus the conflation melts.