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Description
To touch that which was never meant to be
Is for the blind to turn around and see
That all our lives amount to nothing but
A blemish on a face just like a cut.
Disturbing as a fly upon a pond
Of which the ripple has become so fond.
If feelings were pushed freely onto all
The world from ’round the sun would surely fall.
To grasp that from one there will come still more
Is something that is sure to show a door
To insight that is vast beyond the years
Of all the fools whose needs become their fears.
For as the fly disturbs the quiet pond
And as the ripples then become so fond
Balance is brought to stand before the mind
To which the light of life has been so kind:
From one action there is birthed another
As a child springs forth before its mother.

Description
To touch that which was never meant to be
Is for the blind to turn around and see
That all our lives amount to nothing but
A blemish on a face just like a cut.
Disturbing as a fly upon a pond
Of which the ripple has become so fond.
If feelings were pushed freely onto all
The world from ’round the sun would surely fall.
To grasp that from one there will come still more
Is something that is sure to show a door
To insight that is vast beyond the years
Of all the fools whose needs become their fears.
For as the fly disturbs the quiet pond
And as the ripples then become so fond
Balance is brought to stand before the mind
To which the light of life has been so kind:
From one action there is birthed another
As a child springs forth before its mother.