Close Your Eyes and You Will See

CLOSE YOUR EYES AND YOU WILL SEE
June 2, 2004


Close your eyes and you will see
the life that lives within the screen
where drapes are drawn and windows shine
from picket fence to telephone line.

You'll see the engines scrape the air
as traffic rubs a tire where
the rubber meets the roads that twine
beneath the resident skyline.

Now close them tight and soon you'll find
a butcher bird on the clothesline
singing on its flute-like throat
a song it knows and learned by rote.

Another squawk, a chirp, a tweet,
will show you others just as sweet:
The pigeon, dove, and magpie, too,
are there as well against the blue.

A background symphony of sounds
from goats and horses all around
show you true and straight away
that life's beyond the motor way.

Voices rise across the lawns
to meet the coming of the dawn,
and then to make the scene complete
the buzz of insects fills the street.

Now through your lids you'll never see
the orange reds on our front tree,
you'll see the wind as rustled leaves
are moved by nature's windy heaves,

but flowers you will never see,
for they move oh so silently.
To watch them grow and sprout and bloom
then turn into a fragrant plume,

you'll have to open both your eyes
to catch a visual surprise.
There's lots of life beyond the glass
that ascends above the carpet grass.

From clucking hens to cawing crows
to delightful trees where flowers grow.
To take it all inside yourself
you'll need your senses off the shelf:

Your eyes and nose, your ears and heart,
for each will have to play a part.
A concert now is in full swing
from barking dogs to birds that sing.

So open all your senses wide,
then close the door once you're outside.