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.