Another

Without another eye
to move my gaze from where it rests
I would not see the little things;
my words could not astonish me.

Without another ear to hear the words I thought I said
I would not care to check my thoughts;
I would not think to fear the truth.

Without another voice
to question what I really meant
and push against my words with words,
the tongue would hush within my mind.

But eye, and ear, and voice, and mind
combine to find a fitting form
to bring before their foreign friend–
a poem to surprise us both.

Part of the Book Seasons of Thought

All Poems β†’