Focus is sharp when we hunt.

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!

I welcome comments and criticism

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