poetry

heart’s crayon

AT MOORDITCH

“Now,” said the voice of lock and window-bar,
“You must confront things as they truly are.
      Open your eyes at last, and see
The desolateness of reality.”

“Things have,” I said, “a pallid, empty look,
Like pictures in an unused coloring books.”

“Now that the scales have fallen from your eyes,”
Said the sad hallways, “you must recognize
      How childishly your former sight
Salted the world with glory and delight.”

“This cannot be the world,” I said. “Nor will it,
Till the heart’s crayon spangle and fulfill it.”

– Richard “Poet” Wilbur, from Mayflies

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