Blindsided
There is a part of me that you cannot see, you have to rewind the clock to the sixty degree angle, and keep your eyes on the circles in front of you and walk briskly with your head focus on the straight line until you cross over on the other side. The eyes can see thus far but the bulk of it is hidden underneath the bar, chicken and chips, Buffalo wings and Caesar salad to go with Italian sauce and mustard hidden in the dark The movement is quick and the rhythm is slick you have to search diligently for it. Everyone has a blindside rolling on the back of his head, and you have to learn to use it when you walk through the valley of the dead, when the crowd is thick and you cannot see, the blind side will be looking out for thee. You cannot see everything that is out in the stream, when the sun rises and the temperature slides, the multitude will stand behind the line, and protect you. You have to travel the depth of the sea to see what is happen in the galaxy, your vision is blocked whenever it gets dark and the cloudless skies, are spilling warm energy in thin air. Don’t be confused by the labels when light is drawn into it, the whole thing will become a mountain cliff, with a challenge sets up before you and the lines crossing in between. I am sitting beside you looking at the numbers slowly increasing on the board, and the universe is smiling with you and culture is dancing beside you. Three weeks ago you were walking with the old man without shoe and look at you, you are wearing a brand new pair of shoes, there is laughter in your eyes and the grouchy feeling has gone away and the abundance of life is here to stay, those numbers are real and you continue to march up the slope blinded by the power of hope but I climb with the rhythm moving on both sides. My blindside can see what I cannot see, my blindside can go where I cannot go, my blindside is you and this time I will get a break through.
Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2024
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