When a child’s born ,she usually cries
As the stimulation of birth has its price.
Yet we must leave mother’s womb
Then create a cocoon
Where our psyche a world may devize.
Metaphors spring up like spring flowers.
Similes enchant by the hour.
How rich our own minds may be
When we perceive all we see.
For relaxed eyes don’t enjoy being narrowed.
Focus is sharp when we hunt.
Yet maintained it can too often stunt.
We need a broad view,
As the owls always knew.
If only we saw back and front!
How my heart sings 