And have been.
Though I don’t yet fully see,
Looking through blinds as eyes—
Pieces and impressions—
The trees only
stand tall
Not standing as themselves,
The birds fly
Not dancing and singing their own.
As I come in full light
My sunset is slowly coming,
White becoming color, successive
Distinctions that reveal uniqueness,
Similarity and kinship,
Until in darkness we share
The hope of another dawn.
A morning where new eyes see the being
Of all things and feet that lift
A knowing body to walk
In the path of metanoia, deeds done
By relationship to keep all aright,
A life long-lived to find another
And be in the presence of eyes that see all,
A unity of vision that set the universe,
The moving of our small sphere for its sanctity.
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