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Poem

 

Here's a new one....enjoy 

pressed by your finger,
pushing the skin as it slides,
parting the things you didn’t like,
leaving me in choice
to learn anything can be loved.

you’ve got to see it before it can be yours, 
where the seeing and the seen are the same.

And so tell me.....
what is beautiful?
that I can see?
and hence change?
that I can love?
Hm…maybe is that I get to hold his hand 
as his eyes start to be liquid pools, 
clear, 
filled with the colours of his iris....
he’s seen what he made it mean than!!
owl does dive deep.

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