Blind Man

Light to him is a feeling of dryness,
a sun-hot rock
or thirst
and a sense of politeness;

or the smell of snow
and the feeling of flakes on his face,
or the healthy glow
that comes with the smell of bread baking
and the rise of dough;

light, a buzz
like the sound of cicadas
or the taste and flow
of spice on a late afternoon
waking up the tongue;

or can be the smile
that he hears in the voice of a friend
or the slightest touch
of a hand or a finger or lip
that is light enough
to be breathed like a thought  
into air.

Light is the wonder that comes
with birdsong at dawn,
how the sound surrounds
and cleanses
air that no one sees,

but the smell and touch
that’s exciting as the touch of she
who exists as the light of his life
and the light he sees.