Blind Poem by Jeff Wrubel

The human experience is greater than a burning heart's cauldron of blinded, spilling love
Greater than the sniper clarity of pinpoint, unflinching in paralysis, droning hate
Greater than the shallow mud slick of mortal fear that seeds faith's hollowed grove
Greater than the underground aquifer of rational thought and austere scientific fate

Still, enslaved are we by the driven energy of the small who hunger for the wealth, the power
Enslaved are we by the hesitance of the great who learn the questions are the answers
Enslaved are we by those who distance themselves from high atop Babylon's great towers
Enslaved are we by the muted brilliance of a street philosopher preaching to the flowers

O child, you were born only into this, not as a fossil fuel for the mad engine's monetary hiss
You were born only into this, to push the pedal down and burn the rust from your skin
You were born only into this, to recycle it into a world where disparity and tolerance coexist
You were born only into this, to expand consciousness to the sky and dive off the canyon rim

For as up above, so down below, there are places the freedom of the mind can go
Places where the words are obsolete, the symbols only shadows playing pantomime
Places where we'll feel the warming unity of shared dreams in the flow of the undertow
Where we aren't forced a way to see, yet feel intensely everything, as though we were blind