I Have Never Seen What I've Been Told Poem by James McLain

I've never seen what I've been told,
Not in the fields, nor in the cold,
Where shadows of the past unfold,
Or where the winds are sharp and bold.

They speak of valleys wide and deep,
Of mountains high where silence sleeps,
Of rivers where the waters leap,
And forests where the secrets creep.

But I've not walked where they have gone,
The paths they take, I've lingered on,
Wishing to see the breaking dawn
That paints the sky before the song.

The tales they weave in whispered thread,
Of things they've seen and ways they've bled,
Are still unknown, though they are said.
I search for truth, but none are led.

Perhaps one day the sight will find
The vision that's been left behind.