Geoffrey Groom

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Visions 1

POETRY

Visions 1


Your eyes are brown,
mine are blue,
his are green
You have good vision, young and fresh,
mine is ageing, blurred a mite,
his is like yours, sharp and true.
You have precise colour seperation sight,
mine is confused on brown and blue hues,
his is genetically perfect.
Behold, the tree.
What do you see?
Do you see differently than me?
If so, is it any less a tree
or greater, maybe?

Behold, your God.
Does it matter how you see?
If you see differently than me?
Does it change the fact of sight
or lessen God's omnipotence that we differentiate?
Ah, but we can philosophise and speculate,
intellectualise and humanise,
from such activity we can grow to love or hate,
We can, ego-driven, minimise or maximise.
It all depends upon our eyes.
Or does it?

Is God any less God
for all our discourse, all our debate?
Is the fact of God
affected by our genetic code
or even indoctrinated load
Is not the fact that we can see
enough of a fact for you and me?
Shall you tell me
I cannot see
because I see differently?

Better, rather, you tell me what you see
for the beauty of your vision
when added to my own
gives extra dimension
depth, colour, form
to that which I have known.
The fact that you can see
does not take anything away from me
but adds to my perception
if you will care
enough to share

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