Shed, shed your burdens,
Shed, shed the chains, the rust,
The scales and dust,
Shed, shed to see,
Shed, shed to feel,
Shed, shed to cry:
“Shed! Shed! Shed!” — protest profound,
Pounds along the periphery, until
It is let in — the scales fall,
Rivers flow, the Spirit flowers, soul is freed.
Shed the scales! Look to see, the pink
Wisps of clouds against the grey-blue sky,
Open the heart, open the mind, open the windows,
Escape the sickly-white fluorescent lights,
The billows of air conditioned and starved,
The tyranny of unending screens and scrolls.
Prose turns to poetry, water to wine,
Mud to sight, breathing to life.