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Poem

We're bombarded all the time,
Like some mediums that bind,
What our senses can relate,
To our present mental state...
As the light within your eyes,
See every wave length compromised,
It will seem so uniform,
Until the spectrum has been torn...
Through the prism of your life,
If you filter it just right,
And see what choices are at hand,
To free the voice within each band...
When all that's possible is there,
And waits there hanging in the air,
Every one that we may make,
Will link a thousand more at stake...
Be the center of the dial,
As the frequency compiles,
So you can escape the writhe,
Of being trapped in one bandwidth..

Terry
WWW.WhiteLionPoetry.com

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