ee cummings.

all which isnt't singing is mere talking
and all talking's talking to oneself
(whether that oneself be sought or
seeking master or disciple, sheep or wolf)

gush to it as deity or devil
-toss in sobs and reasons, threats and smiles
name it cruel, fair, blessed or evil-
it is you (he, I) nobody else

drive dumb mankind dizzy with haranguing
- you are deafened every mother's son-
all is merely talk which isn't sining
and all talking's to oneself alone

but the very song of (as mountains feel
and lovers) singing is silence.


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