I See

 I see this common stain--

the mark in my eye,

reflected in the soul of

every broken thing I see.

 

Striving to be clear of it.

Tears can’t purify

the tainted view from

the soul's window.

 

The stain irritates

and from it slips this

muddy water that

wishes away all,

but washes away none.

 

Streaking, streaming

dirt, which the fingers

of a frightened child

wipe from cheeks—

 

breaking the path

of murky waters—

and spread with

each new touch.

 

Smearing, staining

with no discrimination.

Until all is covered in

this deep shadow,

 

and darkness

 

reveals the light.

Reviews

[Gordon Greene]

I am in awe of the way every word means something. Sometimes interpretation only comes after I re-read a piece that I have written myself, but it looks to me as I read and re-read this piece that every dot in your work here has a meaning.

This is such a deeply meaningful piece to me. I started to type some of my favorite parts, but I would have simply re-written the piece in my review.

I can only guess that without the experience, this piece would mean nothing to an untouched heart. But it would speak volumes to anyone who is searching or has found... anyone with the "fingers of a frightened child".

Must be published...

Gordon