Sight Does Not See

Sight is lost in the place of constant shadows

He feels the warmth, but does not see the fire

Sight strains with all his might to see that which others do

Yet he does not get his wish.

Sight does not see.

Lightning flashes but Sight is not exposed,

To the beauty of the sunrises and sunsets.

He does not smile at the transformation of the red and gold of fall

As it leaks into winter.

Sight does not see.

Sight does not see the curling snowdrifts

Nor does he witness the pretty green grass as it sprouts up from the ground in spring.

The glossy photographs of his beloved family will never again touch his eyes,

And as the crowds shuffle by, Sight will only begin to dream about what they look like.

Tall, short, young, or old

Sight does not see

To walk down the street alone would be a miracle,

And to know what lies ahead would be a feat.

If harm was to look him in the eye,

He would not know it.

Sight does not see.

If this bothers him,

He couldn’t show it.

But he could tell you in a secret language that only those who are blessed can read.

Sight’s ears would perform magic,

In the ways that are allowed only for blind ears to do so.

Sight floats through life on the edge, among the shadows

Yet he does not notice the turnings of the earth because,

Sight does not see.

~S. Rae