| Subject: Blind Poet (Story and Poem) |
Author:
Lit Dark
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Date Posted: 22:43:32 12/10/01 Mon
Author Host/IP: adsl-64-218-133-57.dsl.rcsntx.swbell.net/64.218.133.57
A blind poet painting upon a canvas with curvatures of red, white, and blue. Through his view of life he has seen things that go beyond the imagination of those who have normal eyesight. His eyes have encompassed the beautiful everglades of Colorado, but he views a battlefield of bee versus pollen. Many have pictured the mountains of Montana, but he envisions an army standing proud and tall. All have seen the great towers of New York, the ones that so sturdily fell, but he feels disdain, horror, and rage, with an image of a wolf.
He paints with an effectiveness beyond those with normal comprehension of the twists and turns of life. Those with normal eyesight see and react, but in his world he must act before acted upon. There are many things that normal people cannot see that this man can paint with detail. All get bored and close their eyes, but his eyes are always open. All have seen people, but his love will be for who she is and not how she looks. Many will say its because his handicap, "No wonder he looks on the inside!" some have said, but He has virtue and morals.
He is known as a man with great insight and a knowledge beyond most understanding. He sees better than those with normal eyesight. He can pick a fly in the room. Although he has never seen his love, and inside he only feels doom. He often feels the warmth of the sun, and the coolness of the moon. Just to see his love for once and his heart will swoon.
Cries are heard o'er the landscape and all will surrounded. Searching surreally for an answer, although renown, he has been forgotten. I love thee and im searching, as he cries for his love, but has she gone thither like a li'l dove. A man with prestige and honor belittled to whimpering, and wallowing on the floor. Searching, O, ever searching for his lover to make him whole. At night you can still hear his cries to the one he truly loves, his li'l dove, sent from above, please grant his love, to him... to him... all you can hear is (((Piglet)))...
O' Piglet my dearest of where have you flown
I've searched and I've searched for you on my own
I know I can't see, but your love Ii have felt
Your warmth ever flowing to my depths and Ii melt
Far and near I have searched for your love
My sweet li'l dove have you gone back above
Hither and thither but you I've not found
Only to face your absence with frown
O' my beloved where have you gone
Searching, ever searching for my innermost song
Though I've not seen you, i delight in your presence
Radiating from your aura is a heavenly benevolence
I've heard of many gems, jewels, and treasures
No comparison to your beauty which I'll treasure forever
But your warmth not felt today, and im left cold
Cold, dark in a search in places only trespassed by the bold
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