Blank pages say more
to a trained eye
than ever did a one
covered in words
to who is blind.
Crossing the subliminal
into a world of imagination,
that exists because of us.
It’s there
if we will let our souls see
beyond what blinds us,
to the words
on the blackened pages
of the Book of Life.
Words inscribed upon our minds
need no eyes to be seen,
but need I’s to exist.
Between the worlds we conjure
within the depths of self
and the solid chairs we sit in,
there is a balance.
Malleable to the learned,
invisible to all others,
unless it takes physical manifestation
and seeks us out.
HG – 1995-2000
