The distorting lens of folly

**Through the Distorting Lens of Folly**

The day was clean, as clean as a newborn’s tears,

I bought myself a microscope;

To study the world, its truths, its fears,

And fill my heart with hope.

Yet soon I found, in idle thought,

My mind would rather wander far,

To magnify each trivial spot,

And fret where no woes are.

A speck of dust upon the pane,

Became a mountain steep;

A whispered word, a passing stain,

Would haunt my waking sleep.

Oh, foolish heart, to magnify,

The small and fleeting woe;

To make of gnats a stormy sky,

And set the winds to blow.

The kettle’s whistle, sharp and shrill,

Was trumpet call to arms;

A creaking door, a specter’s will,

Sent forth its false alarms.

Yet nature speaks in softer tones,

The brook, the quiet glen;

She bids us leave our fretful moans,

And walk with peace again.

O cast aside the glass that bends

Each trivial thing to fear;

For life will soothe, and time will mend,

The woes that seem so near.

The day is clean, as clean as a newborn’s tears,

No need to search for strife;

Let simple joys, through passing years,

Be magnified in life.