Ripples

Ha’pence cast by Nickers of my eyes,
the illusions shattered by those who know not.
To pierce what filtered;
the new scorching shafts sear my sight, and green scars haunt my visions.
Brittle ice, a graceful float yet a mask for cool, still waters.
The stone thrust through to free the chill truth.
Yet not without ripples.
A while then, before a new calm,
and the ice of our former blindness, now shattered, melts
and joins the greater whole, to swell its understanding,
to lap at new shores and turn with new tides.