Lynn Carneson McGregor


The blind see differently. They do not see
the flutter of a blue skirt in the wind.
Truth smiles through the chuckle of a baby.
The quiet serenity of the mind.
Inner fear drowns the truth that my heart knows
Harshness of unsaid judgement in the eyes
of unknown enemies. Imagined blows
distract my thinking and fill me with lies.
Deep in the dark wintertime of my lost soul,
cold rain. Waterfall roars and rainbow shines.
Once again I remember to be whole
and calm the frightened child that undermines.
Let the girl dance and when she can see,
she will run with the wind, laugh and be free


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