Awakening
My soul is trying to wake up.
I want to drink a fuller cup.
I want to touch and taste and feel.
I want to know what's truly real.
Most souls sleep to avoid the pain.
They fear a loss, they fear a gain.
Trapped in a box with many locks;
they only think within this box.
So many sleep, countless numbers,
finding comfort in their slumbers;
with miles to go before they wake,
but some just need a gentle shake.
Words flow from a soul awakened;
woken up by conscious shaking.
They see and taste the world anew
outside the box in which they grew.
They will notice the little things
and listen when a small bird sings.
Within their skin they might feel strange
even the way they write will change.
Every single word they pen
will have effects time and again.
Every single time they're read
another hungry soul is fed.
So I sit here with pen in hand
trying to see, to understand.
Striving to reach that far degree
to understand reality.
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Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to read this
By blind poet
© 2008 blind poet
(All rights reserved)
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