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
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