Tall and thin, with firm resolve,
They look like soldiers in a line;
Disciplined, until they taste
The spectrums of lifeís sweetest wine!
Rods of faith lap light like dogs,
And pass their passion to the soul,
Who then drinks the blacks and whites
And glows according to the flow.
Cones of joy are softer spirals
Who taste each gift with gratitude,
Sampling colors like a connoisseur
Delighting in each flavor of food;
Cones collect the colors, blithely,
And give their visions to the heart,
Who then reads the lines of bliss
And dances to the work of art.
With the rods of faith we see
The shimmers, glimmers, of Godís light;
With the cones of joy we see
The hues and shades from black to white!
With our eyes we see the world,
But miss so much God meant to be;
If we open the eyes of the heart
Then we will start to truly see!
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