Why It Is Said, Here They Are Poem by James McLain

Here and there as long as the road then they go.
As pure as the snow.
Rivers as clear where they flow up hill unseen.
White light as I sigh and then gone.
Define there the blind filled with the sight.
Wide open eye's long before birth few have known.
Vast is the pond I hold dear.
Bioluminescents blue lavender the smell of each rose.
Knowledge only the one of the few could know.
Discern me in thought as I watch you evolve again.