Friday, October 11, 2013


Blind I came, and blind I left 
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. 

I scream.

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.