I Am Wise, I Am Blind
or a leaf that dies,
or the changing of the seasons.
I am wise when the morning light
steals in and warms
my tired eyes and limbs.
I am wise before the dead,
and the soft brown
earth that covers them.
I am wise when I press my ear
against the stone and listen.
I am wise when I remember
faces, tears, and hands.
I am wise when I dream of roads,
fields, and places I have been.
I am wise when I call out to them
and am reassured by silence.
I am wise when I am blind,
as I have always been
when I dare to understand.
I am wise alone, but I am a fool
in your calm presence.
I am as wise as you are willing to pretend.
September 14, 2006
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