Blink

PLEA TO POET:

'Tell me Poet... how is it you See?

What I wouldn't give for my words to flow free.

I've read your rumble and you must show

Me how to learn the things you know.

I'd sell my Soul to climb inside

And see the World without my Eyes...

Just. Like. You.

Script me a Spell, that I may See too...'

POET'S ANSWER:

I had no time for Grief,

Because the Grave would hinder me-

And Life was not so kind

To let me keep what I could See.

Nor had I time for Tears,

But as they flowed so fast and free-

That little drizzle of Ache,

I thought;

Would drown, even me...

but how was I to know?

how was I to see?

I could not drowning, sink-

while tethered to the 'Blink'.

I had no time for Death,

Because there was no Grave for me.

And Life was far too short

For me to dig on; endlessly.

Nor had I time for Life-

But since the heart continues to beat...

I guess I'll walk,

For a bit-

No thought

To look until I see,

The bed where I can sleep-

And Death,

       Has time

             For me...

but still- it did not show.

still- I did not see.

Death was the distant Promise

Life would never keep.

not while I still had eyelids

to trap me in the 'Blink'.

I had no time for Joy,

Whilst loving Misery.

For the heart was not so huge

That it could hold these two for me.

Nor had I time for Pain;

But since, by nature, I must bleed-

The steady pulse of Pain,

I think,

Can comfort Misery.

....between the two, the beat-