The Hand That Sees

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The Hand That Sees

I can smell the silence in the air.
I can hear the darkness that surrounds me.
I can feel the taste of a bad apple.
I taste the sound of screaming.
I can see nothing.
I'm wondering why I can't speak.
My thoughts have tripped and stumbled through time and space.
I no longer have a face that I can recall.
I look in a mirror and see someone else.
I can find darkness in the brightest light.
Others can see me in the darkest night.
I am found.
I am unbound.
I have been cut from the leash that I did not have.
I have the hand that sees.

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The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

mrgoodcat’s Poems (6)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Brittany 0
The Wonderfully Weird 0
Wrong Love 0
The Hand That Sees 0
Backwards 0
The Darkness 0