If the mind could but focus
	Like a lens,
	Sliding in and out
	To pinpoint its perceptions
	Throughout Time and Space,
	As a telescope
	Peers deep into the Universe
	Or a microscope
	Probes the miniscule--
	What could it see?
	What are the wonders
	Of the Greater World,
	Hidden from man's diurnal view
	By his essential humanity?
	Like the pages of a book,
	All That Is
	Is divided infinitely
	Into layer upon myriad layer
	Of existence.
	Like an endless fabric
	Creation stretches,
	And where cross Its threads
	Worlds are born.
	With our dim and human sight
	We cannot perceive
	The riches lying all around us.
	Though a hundred million
	Spheres may co-exist
	With our fair earth,
	We seem them not,
	For humanity clouds our vision
	And limits reality
	To our few and paltry senses.
	But if we could see inwardly,
	Turning our sight
	Back from clay and mud,
	Then perhaps we might glimpse
	Other worlds
	As noble, as true, as beautiful
	As that upon which
	We live and die.
	There blossom flowers
	Graceful beyond belief,
	Unfolding in colors with no earthly names.
	There sing creatures
	Whose unheard voices
	Make earthly Sirens seem hoarse and shrill.
	Wonder upon wonder
	Take place daily, all unseen
	As we plod from hour to hour.
	Someday, perhaps, it will be ours
	To see and feel,
	And even now, in quietness,
	We sometimes can hear the echoes
	Of those other worlds.

7/8/76

© Fred O'Bryant. All rights reserved.

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