We wander through the drifts of day,
set sail on shrouds of night,
and tell ourselves that we can see
the truth which darkness hides.
But often what we call the truth,
is but reflected lies,
a shimmering of our beliefs,
which we learned as a child.
The eye which will reveal it all,
is found within our hearts,
and it can see beyond the known;
displays all that we are.
set sail on shrouds of night,
and tell ourselves that we can see
the truth which darkness hides.
But often what we call the truth,
is but reflected lies,
a shimmering of our beliefs,
which we learned as a child.
The eye which will reveal it all,
is found within our hearts,
and it can see beyond the known;
displays all that we are.
How I miss the blissful naivety of childhood and how tiresome at times the knowledge and understanding which comes with adulthood can be. The eye may be the window to the soul, however, the heart is the torchbearer of all truth and intent.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully said. Actually I don't miss childhood -mine was not so great and I seem to find surer ground the older I get so I don't miss anything of the past. It had always seemed a bit pointless to me anyway - one is where one is and the gift is that one has had the years. What is important, I believe, is to remember how to be 'as a child' and I have found that in grandchildren as I found it in my children - or rather, they remember it for me.
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