I look at God in the eye
And see not my unknown self.
But the brown, blue and black colours
Which makes me see my unknown self.
I hear the birds in the trees
And dream not of a tuneful melody
But of their lives on that oak tree.
I look at the sunset each day
And see not the beauty
But the red streaks and yellow streaks
Which are more beautiful to me.
I meet the great people of civilisation abound
And see not their great deeds
But their finely tuned senses
Of controlled simplicity.
In barren lands and parched deserts I stand
And see not the possibility of death
But the possibility
Of my eyes opening.
In the tundra I begin to waste
And feel not the presence of solitude.
But the welcome hope of a mind of ice.
Into the Grand Canyon I gaze
And dream not of reaching the bottom
But of the beauty of being at the top.
Into the battlefields of Rwanda I meander
And feel not the pain of war
But the end of humanity approaching
So simply, quickly and efficiently
That I close my eyes to sleep
With no dreams.
Into the eyes of a new baby my own eyes venture
And see not a crying new human being
But an amalgamation of two hopes, two dreams and a true friendship.
Beyond the stars my small eyes attempt to gaze
To analyse not the systems of systems
But the simplicity of just not hoping to reach them.
My simplicity means that I can't argue.
I am best left this way.
"Progress in progress", always engaged.
But not ever
Never
By shunning simplicity.
