The Bright, Resplendent Orbs That They Are…


the bright, resplendent orbs that they are,
words emanate from eyes and i hear,
words mean not sound,
words mean a string of feelings,


the bright, resplendent orbs that they are,
melodies orchestrated by them,
also sung out by them,
reminding of a hum, from an ancient bard, about nature and love and soul,


the bright, resplendent orbs that they are,
all the inner scars and raging battles shown in a pearly tear,
fighting back them, another battle,
the tear all the more meaningful if it was for another being, not self,


the bright, resplendent orbs that they are,
i can feel all this, even when i don’t look at them,
to look at them is not much of a difference for me,
for i know what they mean, even without looking,
for the way of knowing is a burden and a blessing i carry.


a burden because words would have been better and more consolable for the impassable distance between us,
a blessing because i could still make the words out of the orbs and know things, from distance that is,
distance was and is always there,
it’s just the brightness of the orbs that is helping me see more.


the bright, resplendent orbs that they are,
i can feel all this, even when i don’t look at them,
to look at them is not much of a difference for me,
for i know what they mean, even without looking,
for the way of knowing is a burden and a blessing i carry.

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