To Any Unseeing Eye
Teaching True Sight
 
Son, listen to what an old soul here says;
Age has not yet touched your soul's eyes
Or you would not blame these few days;
One may live thrice; one still once dies.
 
Speak not what you see missing in them
For in each missing part you yourself are
Missing as the leaf to its very own stem
Or as the blind moon to any seeing star.
 
For from our words you word your own,
You shall not ask "Where truly be they?"
Do things need to before eyes be shown,
Or is it eyes which need just not to play.
 
Have eyes to gaze into our bright darkness
Or blind you be in your dark brightness
 
= - =
 
Life is cruel as any stone to any foot is.
Closer is one's own to oneself yet again.
Then blame not the hardest stone please,
For to any hard stone harder is my pen.
 
You close to yourself see yourself more
Than any eye can see eyeing into shape.
Eyes that claim sight your shape adore
But that shape their true seeing will rape.
 
Why like a wanderer walking on lands
Where no bud ever grows, all is stone,
Do you not quit but let ands follow ands
And ever sing this soul blinding tone?
 
Be a stone and let my eyes ever forget you
Be an eye and see your dreams coming true
 
Nomad Soul
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