Poetry by Touch
Itís gradually giving me the news in stages,
In phases that gently come and go at first sight.
As if this way it hopes like others going blind,
Iíll recognize respect itís showing me in time.
When it comes to my having senses up till now,
Iíve had advantages for all these many years.
I should feel lucky and of course sometimes I do;
The irony: going deaf sounds better to me.
I mean no pun intended in what Iíve just said,
For all of us, here and gone, itís a luxury.
Itís not by birthright giving me a choice to make,
By faith, Iím a believer, in the hands of God.
There still is time to do the things I love to do.
It is the air in trees & sky, the breeze & hush;
A cherishíd walk & talks by moonlit rendezvous,
And poetry to write, to read aloud to him.
When I thank him for the difficult things in life,
Suddenly they are no longer as difficult.