We place a screen of thought

Between the  world of nature and our eyes
We place a boring screen of thoughts like  flies
So miss the joyous flight of circling birds
By interposing far too many words.

How often do we gaze into a face
Imprinting on our heart its dear embrace?
How often are we fearful of that touch;
Is  its    love and hate  now far   too much?

When do we hear the music of a voice;
Leaving our ears empty for this choice?
As receptacles for our  own bursting thoughts
We pour them into   orifices  caught.

So depriving are we to our own dark hearts
We fail to let  all’s thoughts play their  right parts.

I was listening to  a lecture by Adam Philips about Hamlet and he gave me the idea of thoughts as characters or the cast of a play