by Sharon Chism
I once could see the looks they gave
for people like me.
Some pity, confusion a and even shock
that someone couldn’t see.
Like speaking with foreign words,
it’s hard to understand
the uncommon particularities
of a partially sighted man.
I struggle with the secret
of what to tell and when.
To face the discomfort sooner
or to continue to pretend…
My vision has no destination,
no arrival point.
Yet, to make loss my focus
would only disappoint.
I’ve met those insidious thieves:
Fear, Doubt, and Pride.
Still, I find myself allowing
them to be my guide.
I thank you God for courage,
for others who remind
that spending time with thoughts that lie
is worse than wasting time.
For no matter how long we do it,
the same truth remains:
the one we’ll find in that secret place
the body can’t restrain.