Corrective Lens

Born into oblivion, magnified by youth

Onto the vast lens of this place called earth,

We see but a speck, though to us it’s our truth

For we’ve known nothing else since our birth.

Our hearts latch on, our nails scrape the walls

Because we fear the unknown outside of our hands;

We perceive as torrents these delicate squalls,

We know not the unlimited measure of sands.

But then in the scope, corrected is our gaze

As we recognize the frailty of our souls;

It is now that we’re found yet lost in this maze

That tugs on us from those opposite poles.

We question our vigor, we doubt our past

For the myth of infancy has been derailed,

And silently we pause to sigh, alas,

Until we admit that life’s short, and we’re frail.

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