Thoughts At An Eye Hospital

 It isn't always about seeing.

Sometimes it's about knowing

If what you see is as it is supposed

To be. What you know is exactly

What you see. Eye patients 

Don't invoke any sympathy.

We look fine. You don't see 

What we see when we look in the mirror,

Blurred or surreal, a vampire eye

Staring back at you. As if you ate

Up beauty itself, you are like

A balloon filled to the brim 

With endless days of hiding from the sun,

Of looking so deep within that on days

You feel you could explode with so much

Of yourself. But you aren't tired. Not at all.

Inner vision calls you and other worlds

Become your friends; other people

Look like auras. So beautiful, so lonely.

You want to hug everyone 

And their sad glowing innards.

You are not sad, not sad.

Some day you will see just like 

Everyone else. You will see

So much more. You will be healed

Of the misery of bright lights flashed

Into you, the endless stinging drops poured into

Your insights. You will see each new day,

Just as it is. Nothing more, nothing less.

And you will relearn to see reality too.

Colours you don't relate to anymore,

As you wander out of the cave,

Abandon the darkness thread by thread,

Step by step back into the known.