The Blind Poet
I was able to walk a mile at the age of 4
A gravel road in the night, cold with a breath of silence.
Holding tight to that familiar cloth, the only trust that I wore from birth.
I have it still.
It keeps me warm and guides my dreams along other paths, only that this time, I walk alone.
I remember nothing of that night. But the stories foretelling all my brave endeavors also save as the light that kept the curious beasts at bay.
And so, where do I turn to when nights blind me to a stand still.
Surrounding all my consciousness with fear, the unforgiving fortunes of life.
Nay.. As along as I have the light that led the way through that night when I couldn't see nothing but only followed that cloth, I will rise above the storms like a young eagle.
I have trusted that which I have always had, and that's how it all began.
And now my young soul can seek the empty world again.
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