Notes About The Poem

Asia

As I watched the news the last few days 
thinking this can’t be the world the creator designed
as I see more of our people murdered
Asia crossed my mind.

Asia was a student I taught many years ago.
She was autistic and she was blind.
I like to think she taught me as much as I taught her
and I’m forever glad our two lives intertwined

Asia was constantly talking to herself
a continuous one-sided conversation running through her head.
To interrupt her musings I would sneak up, sit down close to her
and repeat the things she said.

She would stop, listen and smile then softly begin to sway
and when her shoulder met with mine
“Is that you Yerman?” she would say.

I would tell her it was me and as I encroached upon her space
she would reach her hand up slowly and gently feel my face.

She didn’t care about my color, my age, my sex…these things she could not see.
She only cared by using her hands that she was feeling me.

I remember how she’d laugh…
I wondered if it was because my disposition was so sunny
or…after using her hands as eyes
it was my face she thought felt funny.

But this is how we taught each other…I used my eyes and helped to set her free
while she taught me in her blindness you don’t need eyes to see.

And as I watch today how people hate…how with words and guns their hate’s unfurled
I wish there was less hate…less guns
and more Asia’s in the world.

Perhaps closing our eyes and opening our hearts is the solution…
is the key!
Perhaps being blind to our differences 
is the only way to see.

hateverse

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