Nature’s beauty spreads before me,
Begging to be photographed
But the lens is broken when
I take off its cover.
Sometimes, it’s spider cracks.
Other times, chunks of glass are missing.
Each time, it takes me unawares.
How can I forget that my lens hasn’t been repaired?
But the camera sits on the shelf, in pristine shape.
It’s my brain misfiring, straining my eyes.
I still see the beauty.
The ability to capture that moment is still there.
With folly, I put myself out there like I’m the old me
Snapping away as if I can trick my brain.
But my eyes, my eyes, they refuse to cooperate
“Rest,” they say. It’s too much.
It will cost you. Are you willing to pay the price?
And so, I must listen to the wise voice,
The one who cares for me,
Being okay with the unknown future,
Finding new ways to express myself.
This poem was inspired by a dream that I kept having. I would be somewhere in nature, see the perfect shot, only to have an unusable camera. It was only after I realized it was my brain trying to deal with visual vertigo and I wrote this poem that the dreams stopped.
Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems 