For your birthday; it’s now arrived
This early spring day,
And you shed some tears
And said,
“I want my sight back,”
And that stymied me:
Now what?
And then I began to think
Perhaps
You do have sight.
I mean, this trauma has delivered
Insight and patience,
Resilience embedded in
The lessons of never quite knowing,
The lessons that one really doesn’t want
To have to learn,
The inchoate lessons that
Emerge to keep one going.
Faith floats out there
On a heretofore unknown horizon
It’s not sharp or clear, and muddies
Contours that already are not crisp,
But there waiting is a different promise
That one hopes to never realize
Because the price of such clarity
Is too dear to contemplate.
So you just keep on
And you find
I think, perhaps
That thrive is a goal tinged
With the golden fog of hope,
And the slow dawn, the
Process of a dawn that tells you that
You are just fine.
You see all
You need to see.
And you continue on.
~ Peter, April 25
