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Wednesday, September 12, 2012

If I Were Blind


If I were blind
Would you write to me anyway?
Simply because there are words
The heart can’t speak
Would you take my hand in yours
 and together, guide them over the ink
And would I understand
Simply because there are things
The soul always knows

I’d like to hope so
And every time I hope
It leads to a road
 filled with thoughts of you
a road I have even travelled in my sleep
while bumping into new possibilities
along the way

If I were blind
Would you write to me anyway?
Maybe I was, and you did
And now my vision is clear
that would explain my ink stained hands

The Sun Sleeps on the Mountain

(For my 5 year old niece Shaniya, who asked me if the sun sleeps on the mountain)

To feel as young,
As summer in June
And as rested as
The sun that sleeps
On a bed of leaves
Beneath a mountain’s tallest tree

Long lashes, and expressive eyes
hint an age far greater
and thoughts far brighter
than her August candles' glow
even the bottom of the massive ocean
couldn't compare to the depth of the poetry in her soul

Before she had teeth
To peek through her effervescent smile
I could hear the questions
I'd never think to know
If love had an alias,
it would use her name in moments like these

She rushes for an embrace
And I see joy reveal itself
through her open arms
As she shares her spirit through her laughter
all my despondency in that instant, is removed
and replaced with immortal hope

With each visit
her heart teaches me
the lessons life hides
like eggs in Easter grass
and each day that knows her
is a little more brilliant for it.