poem by eecummings

[normalforce]

“
perished have safe small
facts of hilltop
(barn house wellsweep
forest & clearing)

gone are enormous
near far silent
truths of mountain
(strolling is there here

everywhere fairyair
feelable heavenless
warm sweet mistfully
whispering rainlife)

infinite also
ourselves exist sans
shallbe or was
(laws clocks fears hopes

beliefs compulsions
doubts & corners)
worlds are to dream now
dreams are to breathe
”

Rachel, I want you to know that this reminds me of you. But I also just really like the poem - the feel of it.