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.