Surviving

Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2017 04 12 Poetry, Breathless April 15, 2017

For seven years this journey has met up with an amazing array of fascination. It simply baffles me how quickly my life changed, and through it all I have so much to be thankful for.

The use of the white cane is something that I may never truly feel comfortable with, but it has become part of who I am none the less. I have been afforded the help of professional O&M instructors who have helped to calm my weary soul, while tutoring the nervous child inside. I am so very fortunate for crossing paths with them, and although the cane still feels awkward in my hand, it has taken on the task of helping to lead me towards tomorrow.

There’s a rhythm to using a cane. The sweep, the steps, the information passed on through the staff, the hand, the mind, it all works together in harmony, and the unseen courage should never be taken for granted.

And here we are, as this 12th day of April winds down. The month is nearing the half way mark, and winter is melting away to become but a memory.

National Poetry Month is on the move, and here’s another one of mine to add to the list of wonderful writings.

I wish a good night to you all, and an even better tomorrow.

Deon

***

Breathless

I hear the scrape across the pavement.
Senses rise as anticipation grows.
Audible echoes grab hold from either side.
Back and forth the sweep continues.

A breathless journey through a darkened world.
Nervous steps across the face of the moon.
Heartbeat in time with a rhythmic pace.
I picture the possibilities in my mind.

Orientation forever remains the key.
Mobility surrounds itself in a perception of independence.
Head straight, eyes straight, shoulders straight.
Ambient clues become a trusted friend.

Quarter turn right and on we go.
Obstacles quickly turn into opportunity.
A brand new world appears through the tip of the cane.
One meaning, one moment, one man.

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