Vision Perplexed
(to see or not to see)
There’s a Darkness in our being
That resists the fall of light;
There’s a blindness to our seeing
That refuses glory’s sight.
No Woman walking down the street
Can be transcendent in our age;
Scrap paper blows across her path,
While “litter not!” is all the rage.
Yet her walk demands attention;
Form and function not obscure:
She’s Beauty in a cotton dress,
Her image now is chaste, demure.
There’s Glory hidden in each curve,
If only I could learn to see
The truth beyond that lovely shape
That lives and moves so fetchingly.
