although the blindness with which I left was of a different sort.
Perhaps the word blinded would be better.
If being blind is a black hole,
then being blinded is a searing white hot light.
Blind, I saw nothing.
My own hand in front of my face - vanished.
My own panting all I was aware of.
In the vacuum. In the nothing.
Blinded, I see everything.
Light, illuminating all.
Reaching tendrils, into the corners
and coaxing forth the hidden things.
All I can see is all that I can see.
The hole. Filled. Light. Dispersed.
Far reaching. Infinite. Moving.
Blinding. Exposing. Grabbing.
Burning. Searing. Purifying.
This light blinds me. Now all I see is a giant white sheet, glazing over my eyes, becoming one with my sight.
All I can see is this.
My hand in front of my eyes
becomes enveloped, then vanishes.
Even my own voice is lost in the
pure intensity of the light.
I am lost and I am found.
I am blinded and now I must walk
Into the light.