All But Blind
What is truth that I so long?
What but black and white?
Is it a word, a voice, a song,
A silent breaking light?
What the outcry of my soul
If no more than a dream?
Why my ever-waking though
If all be as it seem?
To define would bring to end,
Yet I know what I seek.
Within a heart, these words so drift --
Now and then, they speak.
I have come to listen close,
I have come to find
Oh, these ever-waking eyes --
I am all but blind.
Copyright © Christopher Steven Coan | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment