Once I walked into glass… ‘couldn’t tell it was there.
And I felt like an asshole. Folks laughed themselves sick.
As for me… I was dazed, and I didn’t care much.
I have near perfect vision, yet I need a crutch.
Perhaps clicking like bats do would be fantastic.
Not a thing I could see through would become a snare.
Often glass is a ceiling. Sometimes it’s so high
That it cannot be seen by the one who grows tall.
If one ascends too quickly, before very long,
He may strike what is unseen and feel he’s done wrong.
In that way, such a ceiling can be a brick wall.
What is hopeful is that one can still see the sky.
Some things should be transparent, and some things should not,
Is, I guess, what I’m saying, not knowing from where
I find such things to write about, and that’s OK,
Just as long as I let spirit echo my way.
Surely flying through glass cannot cause me despair
As I keep myself focused with all that I’ve got.