Blind Seers

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

The fact defined lacks sense, the sense that hearts

Desire.  The meaninglessnesses of facts

Are multiplied because there are no charts

From blanks to show our minds bright gem-cut acts

In front of fears and death.  Some say

That scriptures signal where to go and how

To armor life and, useless, how to pray

To truest gods and how to form a vow

That builds a castle gate and wall to save

Us from the desperation of the claws

Of demons, or inside some sacred cave

The truth will be revealed as diamond laws.

  But there are many holy texts and ways

    And we are lost inside this ruthless maze.

© Phillip Whidden