Seeing clearly
Perhaps it is good not alwaysto be able to see so clearly.
I take off my glasses and raise
my eyes to the assembled assembly
of sunrays that makes the sky ablaze.
At that moment directly
my brain begins a new phase
and starts a creative journey.
When the ends cannot be seen,
the brain concocts its own stories
to set its very particular scene.
Maybe we all want to see too clearly –
we never let ourselves relax,
and let our mind wander
to the endless possibilities
that all our lives hold.
Original poem: December 2006
Modified: July 2007
Poetry by Lea Foverskov
Read 1047 times
Written on 2007-10-02 at 22:55
Tags Life
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Rob Graber |
