What do you see in front of you?

I see so little, most tedious, not new.

What about you? What do you see

And how is life so different from me?

I see the sun a burning flame,

I feel its rays, I feel its shade.

I smell the flowers deep in bloom,

That the sun has given its sunbeams to.

I hear the bees that busy around,

The glowing flowers and the buzzing sound.

I touch the wind and the swaying trees,

With their branches so full of flowing leaves.

I sense the grass so green and ripe,

And all the insects rushing by.

The hopping cricket, the croaking frog,

The water's edge, the rippling log.

So very lucky I am to see,

These wonderful gifts that are given so free.

But how can you see all of these,

For you are blind and cannot see?

It is not I that is so blind,

But he who does not use his mind.

For there is more than just one sight,

For mine is within and my soul is my light.

J. Crawford

Back Caley Street,

Bolton.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.