Looking through a straw I can only see
A diminutive glance that shows nothing.
Noticing the world but not eternity
With eyes misled, dependent on this scene
Blinders block the path to pasture free
Instead grey gravel roads ahead leaving
No variation of what this life might be.
Icebergs beneath water need our heeding
Darkened steps precede the flame of knowledge
Work was done to see what Columbus saw
And worlds unlocked without a comfort space.
Penguins don’t fly, but swim; not how it seems
The oak’s strength comes from roots it must conceal
Some books must be read twice to find their themes
To once homely young blossomed beauty’s real.
Human souls run deeper than cavern streams
Often more hides inside than facades may reveal
From miner’s coal comes tempered glass that gleams
What took so long to find holds more appeal
When I looked through my straw—
I saw the whole.
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