Blind Sight
Back in the day when a horse was a need
And a sword was a weapon to fear
Poets were druids and music was magic
And an eye interfered with an ear
So musical poets were blinded by swords
White hot and held very close
So all they had left was a hearing of tone
And an opening way of reprisal
They felt their duty to blind with their beauty
So that listeners felt so alone
They would need to be led
And of course would be bled
By the king they had put on the throne
The songs taught them so well
That the king went to hell
And the blinded then held a revival
Nowadays poets can see and be free
Stand on their own and be whole
It’s the way we come into the world
Using all senses the mind comprehenses
To heal all the scars of the soul
Pain’s for the body to deal with
Soul’s a creation to hold
As the only thing one can own
Leaving this wonder unfurled
Is the way we go out of this world
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2006
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