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Poetry is the Eternal Breath. And matter is an illusion that happens. Never mind that seas and rivers, flowers, snow and waterfalls, are atoms of this or the other, made from energy or substance; The truth is, that there is poetry in what they do and there will always be beauty in what they do. The agitated bridge, the smooth lake, the fall of water, the ice in summits, the blizzard in fury, the snowy cloud in the dark cloud, they are not the same. Although they have identical hydrogen and oxygen molecules; that it’s not enough for the person with an artist’s heart and an apex of God in their gaze, to say that things are just states of matter, when they are states of the soul instead.
