Blind Sight

Destined to live in the land of the blind
he mourned the loss of his eyes
the loss of his sight
and the willingness to forgive

Not knowing where to go
what to say
or what to do
Dry tears fell
from the hollows that were

It was then he realized
that, though blind,
one did not need eyes
to have sight

The colours came back,
not as he had known them
Sound spoke a new language
Touch ministered to his soul
And he heard symphonies in the sunrise

Forgiveness rose
Like the sun on a new land
And, at peace, he could finally be
because, now, he could truly see.

© The Drummer Poet


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