Sometimes
I have the feeling
That soap bubbles
And the faces of many funny creatures
Are reflections
Of some past lives
Faces of individuals
Of some very long time ago
Just wild imaginations
Forgive my wild wanderings
But take a good look at this life
A bubble
Floating
In space
Never bursting
Never sinking in relation
To other elements
Pause, and ponder
If these occurred by themselves
Why isn’t the process replicating itself?
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