Seeing with my heart
17.03.08
The joyful squeals of children fill the air
As they run around me
Not that they realise I'm there.
Their happy voices, innocent hearts
Faces filled with laughter,
Being themselves in the feeling of security.
I can imagine them chasing each other,
Kicking a ball about,
Having tiffins prepared by loving mothers.
My world of darkness cannot stop me.
Though my eyes can't see, my heart feels.
It is devoid of prejudice that comes with sight.
I'm all ears when spoken to,
Reaching out my hand in trust and faith.
O life, if seeing was everything,
The sighted would have been alive.
The joyful squeals of children fill the air
As they run around me
Not that they realise I'm there.
Their happy voices, innocent hearts
Faces filled with laughter,
Being themselves in the feeling of security.
I can imagine them chasing each other,
Kicking a ball about,
Having tiffins prepared by loving mothers.
My world of darkness cannot stop me.
Though my eyes can't see, my heart feels.
It is devoid of prejudice that comes with sight.
I'm all ears when spoken to,
Reaching out my hand in trust and faith.
O life, if seeing was everything,
The sighted would have been alive.
posted by heston at 10:34 PM
2 Comments:
U kno u got me smiling der..... feels so true- if seing was d truth...d wrld wudv bin a diff place..albeit a richer place in honesty!!
I like how the whole poem lead me to the last two lines and how that's where the real poetry began. And this is how I've often felt about my own works.
Looking forward to exploring the mazes of the order beneath your chaos.
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