blind
my heart is blind
blind
my art is blind
if I close
my binding eyes
I have opened them
to light
I trust in going in
with the clarity
of the blind

and then the fog
is lifting
to the song of
your fragrance
the fog
is lifting
like doubt
to faith yielding

truth is what
I trace
when I have
opened my eyes
to blind sight
when I release old ways
and touch with
the skin of my fingers
I unpeel sight

what I dared not see
now comes to me
as a long-forgotten
texture of light
through a trellised window
that rains silently upon
my bravely beating heart
as I begin to unfold
truth with my hands

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