Her golden kissed hair holds her ears at ransom,
Rhythmic breaths rappel against my cheekbone,
The pulsing landscape of her line,
Ebing and flowing like ocean's tide,
My fingertips tremble with desperation,
To bring to life what my eyes can only fathom,
To cast aside mutual hesitation,
And trespass better judgment in the name of passion,
Yet, don't flowers sometimes bloom in unforgiving soils,
Or rain fall without a cloud above,
When does an intruder become a guest; or a thief a provider,
Where does the line exist between the lover and the insider,
To a blind man, all things that are different are the same,
He who is not limited by his senses can discover beauty at any turn,
And unmask the virtues of his company,
Testing the mettle of his beholders
But to those who look at life through closed eyes,
Open not your lids but instead your mind,
Accept that those things which seem as detriments,
May have made the one you wish to see more defined
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Comments: 7
Did someone have a good night? ;) This was your best work yet. You know we have always felt that most often, it's not the blind that are blind - it's the rest of us that take our senses for granted! Stunningly beautiful words, delivered in one of the most profound ways I have seen to date on Gather! Bravo son!
Also - You need to republish this piece to groups like:
The Critics Corner
Prose Poems For The 21st Century
Noncomformists
Daily Best
Poetically Incorrect......and
"The About Absolutely Anything You Want To Publish/Post group"
I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Dad:
I appreciate the kind words.
Thanks for the group names; I have joined them all and published this poem among them.
Jeremy
This really hit me:
"To a blind man, all things that are different are the same,
He who is not limited by his senses can discover beauty at any turn,
And unmask the virtues of his company,
Testing the mettle of his beholders"
My youngest daughter was diagnosed late with Ambylopia. Unfortunately, her neural pathways never responded to "patching" therapy. She has lost the sight in her right eye, and her left is severly impaired.
She's a real kick though, and does everything that the other kids do in and outside of school. We've never placed limitations on her, and treat her no differently than our other children.
But, I worry that she will struggle later in life.
I am going to save this poem for her, when she needs a boost.
Thank you, so very, very much!
Thanks,
Clay