New Eyes

Posted: 8th December 2013 by admin in Uncategorized

I woke up with new eyes for the world.  It was a long night, tear drenched pillows, cold winter wind biting at my soul but I woke up.  It was a long walk and a longer journey.  The cataracts developed with age, I moved around a lot but stayed in the same place.  It made me feel like my travel was real and it was, but I walked down the street not across the river or beyond the road where the trail begins.  I was a child.  Hands held down, feeling my way, I felt older than I was.  I felt like I knew the world.  I had seen it.  I remember it.  It fades so I color in the places where the tea spills and smears the lines all blur, so I retell it, I speak it and recreate.  It is real.  I felt it.  So I worked for years writing and rewriting this fading world.  I didn’t want to loose its smells or sounds its sweetness so I began to make space.  I thought I didn’t have enough room in my mind, it fades, so I closed it.  I turned off the lights and saw nothing. I created in darkness and dreams and it was home.  I loved it.  It grew more beautiful with silence and I had to have it, it was mine, I belong in it.  So I decided to leave a note to my parents and run, into the distance beyond where the sun rises to where my memories do not fade and I will find them.  All of them and retrace those smeared lines.  And I walked and walked and left it all behind.  I was going home.  Home.  It was supposed to be full and bright and living.  It was supposed to fill and remove this chill this stillness that became my desire.  What I reached was the sun.  It burned.  There were tears and there was anger.  I was alone.  It did not speak, it was silent like my room on that street where I walked.  It was beautiful but I was not.  I had cataracts and only those with clear vision could enjoy it.  It was bright and I could no longer build.  I faced its ravaging beauty and its indifference.  It was the same.  I was the same.  I missed home.  There was nothing left, there is no difference.  And I loved neither.  I saw neither.  So the long night began.  I walked without aim no destination or hope. I walked simply to move.  I leave myself behind I walked to love more than a vision.  I grew tired and fell and bruised.  I was trampled and I trampled.  I swore and tore and bore my burden and I grew tried.  I slept and forgot who I was.  Who I had been.  I am not the same.  I am less, younger than I what I was supposed to be.  I was alone.  Utterly alone.  And a voice broke the silence it was a whisper and sweet.  It was my name and he knew me.  From long ago, before the suns ever rose or set.  Before there was light or darkness.  Simply words, I know you, and I feared what he knew.  I developed cataracts, I ran away, I am never home, I am tired, I am not the same.  He recognized me.  It is true.  There was nothing left, ashes, and soot, but there he was.  Eyes wide and strong.  I remember him.  He lived on my street and walked beyond where the sun rose.  I saw him sometimes when I walked down the road just before the river and I saw him on those bright streets where the sun burned.  I remembered myself I was a dreamer, a lover, a builder, I was adventuresome and young and old.  I had heart and sought heart.  I was alive and traveled and saw the world.  I had memories and they burn like the sun there was room for all of them. There were beautiful quiet streets and bright bold streets.  There was sound and smell and sight.  And I woke up with new eyes for the world.

  1. Anonymous says:

    Poignant. You write so beautifully. I have missed and needed your words, the images that you paint and evoke, painfully – in the way salt stings and tears wounds, and yet leaves a soothing and healing calmness.