My mind, in blinding light
Waits, waits, in a silence that is heavy as pearls.
Waits for the lines and lanes of destiny to redefine
And refine; when the refined mind
Silently doubles and doubletalks itself out of rational thought;
Waits for the light to go, to disperse itself after the gloom
When the eyes can refocus and see
The difference between can and would be.
And destiny weaves her loom,
By blinding light or darkest gloom.
