To be blind –
the inability to see
To walk, stumbling.
With every step –
Nothing new.
Only your feet know
The stones of the road.
At times – at the moments
When the road
Comes up to meet your face,
Even then all the stones are invisible.
I touch their sharp edges.
Their malevolent, cutting
surface. The stones, my
relatives –
lie waiting there,
for my hands.
In my world of blindness,
I will take the stones
To build a transparent house
Of light.
Lauma Lapa
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/stones-and-houses/
