I sang of holy words which held great meaning
That Anguished Truth was not my truth at all
A windshield caked with mud in need of cleaning
‘To See, or Not to See?’ the questioned call.
Unlike the tortured Dane with “this or that?”
I now find options grow by leaps and bounds
Enlarge the heart and mind their habitat
And take in all the new world’s sights and sounds
But not a new world – just the choice to see
‘Tis been here all along, before my face
When given option One or Two – try Three
And find you’ve locked yourself inside that space
We beg the On or Off switch – “Give us light”
Most bulbs now dimmable will set aright.
This is fascinating. I’ll have to read it again tomorrow!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! It’s always my favorites no one reads or comments on. Do you find that as well? I chalk it up to a lesson in humility, but still. A little affirmation is nice…