The Answer

Once upon a time I asked
a favor of a friend,
to tell me what he thought of love,
and for his advice to lend.

Love? Love is blind, said my friend
as he turned and looked at me,
the answer only you will find
from the man who can not see.

I knew such a man whom I could ask
and so I sought him out,
for surely he'd know the answer,
of that I had no doubt.

I know not what love really is,
my blind friend began to balk
words can not describe it well,
go ask someone who can not talk.

So off to town I went to find
a man without a voice
and begged so hard for his time
he really had no choice.

Then with pen in hand he wrote
his advice for me to read
and eagerly I thanked him twice,
for his unselfish deed.

With answer now close at hand,
I drew the paper near,
but on the slip the words he wrote
said ask the one who can not hear.

For I can not write the feelings
of which I have not spoken.
words of love crossed not my lips
since my love my heart has broken.

So I continued on with my quest,
determined to the bitter end,
and found a man of knowledge
whose deaf ear I did sorely bend.

I am not one to say, my son,
for Love is not a silent thing,
but I'm told the love we have inside
is what makes the heavens ring.

So now I have my answer,
as obtained from everyone,
I now can tell you what love is not,
'tis neither blind, nor deaf, nor dumb.

But love's own light will shine so bright
that darkness pierced shall be,
and loud enough to wake the dead,
with the greatest words that be.

Paul Allen Rice