Wednesday, March 14, 2012

The More It Blurs

The hand that grasps cannot realize the fingers that point
But the mind that is empty remains full of surprises

For those no longer busy
There is always just enough to do

The mind that wanders does not travel far
While the hand that simply reaches out, crosses any border

A people with roots within the earth
Find meaning in simple rain and sun

The man who fears that he might fail
May just be content with what others deal

To glimpse the riverbed through flowing water
Might require good light and a high bank

For those whom time has passed by at last
This could be a blessing they cannot share

A dry summer might not seem important
To sophisticated city dwellers

The more we center all our focus
The more a blur all else becomes

To strive and fail is difficult
To strive again is harder still

For the angry man nothing satisfies
As too little always comes too late

A dog may lie sleeping quietly for hours
Exploding into motion at some unheard noise

The meaning that we attach to things
Removes something from what we understand of them

To sleep is not simply to ignore
To dream is not just to run away

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