the inability

To be blind –
the inability to see
To walk, stumbling.
With every step –
Nothing new.

Only your feet know
The stones of the road.
At times – at the moments
When the road
Comes up to meet your face,
Even then all the stones are invisible.

I touch their sharp edges.
Their malevolent, cutting
surface. The stones, my
relatives –
lie waiting there,
for my hands.

In my world of blindness,
I will take the stones
To build a transparent house
Of light.


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