To Be Simple
To hear voices speak from truth learned,
from exploring the troubled heartbeat,
the fragile wing, the gathering rain,
or from walking in solitude among the brambles,
pierced by thorns without notice.
To watch the struggle of life, a visitor,
and find knowledge from everything seen or done.
To understand the price, that it all matters,
to someone, someplace, at sometime.
To know even a single tear can stain a face,
left as a scar on the warm flesh of innocence.
To find the heart can be a beacon
and find the way out of the dark corridors of confusion.
To move in silence without fear,
when offering a hand of compassion.
To be joyous in the simple fact of being alive
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