May it be that that friend thinks of me ?
That our minds, reaching forth, find each other
Through a gift telepathic and free?
May it be that my mind is every day sought
By the minds of my friends, far and near ?
May it be that my thought also stirs them to
In its wanderings over the sphere?
Do you tell me my thought is all "in my mind"?
But why must it be so, I pray ?
Or, where shall you look. I beg you, to find
The mind, with its magical sway
Does the cranium hold the mind in its cell,
All sealed from space and the light
Is the mind like a clam, cooped up in a shell ?
Or a watch, all cased in tight?
The seeming, I know, may not be the true,
But, in seeming, my mind journeys far,-
Flies over the earth, and pierces the blue,
And easily mounts to a star.
And perhaps it encounters the minds of my
(As the birds meet and greet when they fly,)
With which, in the meeting, it mingles and
As it travels the earth and the sky.
___John Edward Everett
Quillings In Verse
John Edward Everett
(Smith Center: ___. 1912)