Seeing clearly

Perhaps it is good not always
to 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 315 times
Written on 2007-10-02 at 22:55

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Rob Graber
Very thought-provoking; didactic but not preachy!
2007-10-02