Perception 2

by
moriba sababu

If we could only wipe the scales from our eyes
we would see that the mouth of a babe
was not designed to drain the female dry
the kitchen was not her home
nor the toilet bowl a place to rest her elbow

If we could only wipe the scales from our eyes
we would realize that constant labor
was not a parasite to suck the male dry
the garage is not his camping ground
nor the yard a place to be cast adrift

only to be rescued... at supper time

If we could only wipe the scales from our eyes
we would understand that the hollow by our side
should be filled by the one we left behind
that the emptiness we feel inside
is but the lightness of wasted time

If we could only wipe the scales from our eyes
and beat instead the drums of our souls
I feel the magic of the drum beat
would echo through the soles of our feet
and bring the rhythm of life from the earth

If we could only wipe the scales from our eyes
I feel the magic of the drum beat
would issue from the pupils of our eyes
and like beacons reach out beyond the confines of self
and pierce the smug off our gray skies

If we could only wipe the scales from our eyes
and climb instead to a time and place
where tears and laughter walk hand in hand
for friend and foe can communicate
in the fresh sweet recesses of the mind

If we could only wipe the scales from our eyes
we would find where the thoughts of children dwell
a place where 'you' and 'I' do not exist
for 'us' and 'we' are one -- and the same
where little things are important

and big things can wait -- till break time

If we could only wipe the scales from our eyes
the earth would look different
young... fresh... alive...
and we would see each other anew
for we too would look different
young... fresh... alive...

If we could only wipe
the scales from our eyes


© Ralph Boothe
--/--/1997