A wise poem from a fellow blogger off mine.

sonnets and dragonflies

to fathom length of storms
we scan the clouds in vain.
one may as well the tear inform,
as to the depth of pain.

exterior to time,
the momentary sky,
and insufficient paradigm
to know tomorrow by.

inferior as well,
and set beyond our scope,
the measure of another’s hell,
or yet his stores of hope

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