Ways Of Seeing

Rounding a corner, light steps in,

neatly casting its mystery.

Pieces, perhaps blown in from a forgotten poem,

reassemble, prompting the motion of thought.

Not by accident at all, there is an uproar, 

the eyes hold fast to a myriad of colours and forms.

In time there is an echo, everything sits quiet,

the active imagination secretly disappears.

. . . . .

It is true that I can trip over anything and nothing – a speck of dust, a patch of sunlight, 
an idea. I move through life like a person with one eye, through a landscape that looks 
flat, but is really tricked out with hidden depths and shallows. It didn’t use to be so, but 
no matter. I navigate the world well enough in my own way.

~ Franny Billingsley, The Folk Keeper