Well here we are, Easter Sunday. I hope all of you have a wonderful holiday.
I have written a lot of poetry about a lot of things. Much of my poetry revolves around my vision loss. The ups, the downs, the sweeping emotional barrage of uncertainty and hope. It all represents what I have been through, who I am and where my feet will take me.
Here is another set of ideas, of thoughts, of a mirage of faith, wrapped around a vision that will forever be a part of me.
Thanks for stopping by.
The smiling faces have vanished from sight, but the expressions in their voices still keep me company throughout my day.
The colors remain faded from view, but they still sneak up from behind, wrapping their unforgettable fabric around the day.
Skies of blue, eluding me with their canvasses full of charcoaled gray, still brilliantly light up the darkest shadows of the day
The scarlet feathers of the cardinal hide from me, but I can still hear their timid wings fluttering, as they call out from the branches of the spruce.
Wings of pure midnight blue escape my searching eyes, but the cry from the morning crow still pierces through, and wakes the slumbering day.
Sunlight’s shimmer washes away the colors of the morning sky, but its radiant warmth still penetrates and soothes my searching heart.
The rows of corn line up, hidden in the fields just out of view, but I can still picture them, one by one, waving in the hot, late August breeze.
Although the sparkle of sunlight on the river’s edge eludes my searching eyes, I can still hear the bubbling current, continuing with its winding quest towards the oceans of tomorrow.
The comforting glow of the crescent moon hangs quietly among the hidden stars, but I can still feel it, painting the illuminated night.
The captivating magic held inside those eyes of blue, still spin around my unforgettable memories of your face, your gaze, your smile, of you.