As they stepped into the lake and felt the warmth beneath the quake
A voice behind them said, what’s that in your head?
We turned to the sound behind and saw what seemed charm, a fish floating on the edge of the fluttering waterbed.
In wonderment we thought, isn’t he dead or are we falling apart, dead you think come from the teeth and his tail fluttered in belief.
Only thing worse than being blind is having sight without vision, to shine.
O. Stephen Peart. 2020 © All rights reserved.