Word Picture

The writer’s never-ending task:
trying to describe the landscape of life
in a word picture.
The ins and outs, the ups and downs,
the complexities of dimension
obstinately avoiding
my attempts to convey them.

So much activity on the surface.
A million words could only hint at
what lurks beneath.

So what do I see before me?
That which is revealed
and teasing glances of that which is hidden
(the secret and the forbidden).
Patterns both obvious and obscure.

I see everything through different tinted lenses
depending on my mood.
Perspectives multitudinous
and these just my own;
multiply them by six billion odd
for we all see uniquely,
the same way we feel,
the same way we live.

How can I interest you
in the view through my eyes?
How can I make you understand
how the world is for me?

Colours myriad,
the length and breadth of the spectrum.
For every colour
countless subtle shades.

My view distorted
by experience and expectation,
I see murkily
like through a dust cloud
or mud disturbed from a river’s bed.

All clear one second,
blurred the next.

I see not just with my eyes
but with heart, soul and mind.
I see what’s cruel.
I see what’s kind.
I see black and I see white.
I see the shadows in-between.

Yes, I see the shadows
for that’s how the world is.
I see the shadows
where dark and light
and good and evil converge.

Shadows.
The price we pay everyday
for the sun
and every night for whatever light
we may be lucky enough to find.