Member Poem

I am not blind.
I see the flutter of birds in flight
I see the warmth of morning light
I see the scent of flowers blooming bright
I see the whisper of wind at night
I see the taste of a hopeful fight
In the depths of my parched throat, strong and right
I am not blind.

Caught on the last step, of a mountain path plagued by plight
My soleless feet, hovering above that great height
A tear trickles upwards, leaking beads of blight
The harsh rock beneath me, dissolving into the night
The falling wind, makes my skin ignite
For I am ascending to the bottom of a lush canyon, green and bright
Traveling on a railless train carriage, caught upright
I taste the bitter sigh, before I alight
I am not blind.
I see the light.