...Somebody may have seen me

Walking down this road...

...They may have seen me rising

And shouldering my load...

...But did they see the pause, minute,

When my gaze did meet the sky..?

...And from there, did they feel the wind

That blew dust into my eyes..?

...They may have seen the ripples, yes,

On the surface of this pond...

...Unaware that right beneath those waves

Was a plankton pushing on...


How can one change the way we see

When we only know one way to look?

Can it be taught, can it be wrought,

From some others' steely books?

If there is sight then I must think

There is darkness, to contrast

For without which there would be no

'Sight' to speak of; true is that...