In My Blindness Once (A Poem)

I remember, in my blindness once,
Hearing.
It’s amazing what you can hear when you are no longer focused on the lust of the eyes,
When you are no longer driven by the thrust of curiosity.
The world shrinks, like a star collapsing upon itself.
 
I suddenly could hear every sound,
The machines surrounding me, sure to warn of my impending doom,
The footsteps of care making their way, screeching across the tiled floor,
The sounds of a lover sleeping gently somewhere just beyond my reach.
 
I could hear the moans of suffering from beyond a door I could not see,
And hear the subtle voices of concern from those surely worried about an end.
Pleading for something else,
Searching for just one more chance to say “good morning.”
 
I could hear the ticking of a clock,
Yet I remained unsure if that clock was hanging dutifully on a wall,
Or somehow lived within me,
Counting, silently in a circle that one day would run out of time.
 
I could hear the sounds of my own heart beating,
Defying the odds yet again, warning me that I had not finished,
“There is more to do, so much more to do,
Keep hearing, listening to the sounds within you, and you will find your path.”
 
Too often we are told, that listening means hearing yet another,
And we listen to the point where we can no longer hear ourselves,
Stand! do not fail to hear that voice that beats inside you,
Obey not them, but the magic that lives within you.
 
I remember, in my blindness once,
Hearing.
It’s amazing what you can hear when you are forced to finally listen.
When you are no longer distracted by the image of the flower,
You can actually hear it sing its song.
 
~TG
photo by: Bea Serendipity

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