Tag Archives: overcoming

Growing Up As a Blind Child

Through a one-way mirror, they eyed me,
Between us, their watchful eyes conceived the distance
And I began to lose definition.

I of the many translucent faces,
They sanded smooth my jagged edges
Painting them invisible with a missing shade of blue.

They glossed over my differences until I faded into the background
Molding my experiences so that they mapped onto their figures
Until I reflected their perspective thickly occluded.

They even tried to put an eraser
To that unusual glow that seemed to linger
Out of curiosity and the innocence of a child.

And my little ash child remembers their walls:
There were walls,
To keep her out, to contain her with,

But she saw through and far beyond them
How they were made for someone small, so she ignored and walked around them,
And the walls came tumbling down, and that is how they found them.

For a long time I searched for something to shelter me
Until with free hands I rebuilt my foundations,
And only then could I love what I made.

I’ve sought and found the knowledge
That they kept from me with stones.
I have survived their stares, I have stared back.

I have stood within the changing tides,
And learned the language of the wild song,
The one to which I’ve now come home, echoed in the blinking of an eye.

I rekindled trust as if I were tending the cauldron of Cerridwen
And in the river of memories I washed off the dust:
Why had I never seen myself before?

It was like repeating an unrecognizable name, until I realized it was mine.
It was like discovering I was a firefly,
When no one believed I could shine.

And now Across the bridge of overcoming,
I come bringing brokenness to light.
Bright beams alight along the road,

Pooling there like fallen stars, to guide my weary ash-child’s way.
Back through the darkness I reach out, the whole of her I carry in my arms,
And Whisper through her troubled dreams, I am here.

I who leapt among the flames, made it to the other side,
Tenderly I take hold of my ash child’s hand,
And into the blue, together we rise.

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I to the Philosophy Library Came

I went to reclaim what is mine
I walked roads I did not know
I braced myself against the cold
And stepped inside

The halls were just as I saw them last
The people still strangers
Except for one friend from long, long ago
Joyous and startling, like stumbling onto a benign shadow

I went to reclaim what is mine
I sat down at the table
I had all I needed but did not feel prepared
I was mostly silent and tried not to give my name

They around me did not speak
Walls shattered, fears crumbled, doors opened
A strange and somber, still homecoming
To a place I had never before been alone

Traversing treacherous terrain, the warm sun chilled me
Cement walkways became vast mountain passes
Trees seemed to bar my way with rustling branches
Streets were moats where morose memories languished
Blindly I pressed on, directionless on my way

I ignored the screams that echoed across my mind’s harsh landscape
These screams I used to make, when all I knew was torn away
When I lost who I was, and all my love
I learned to live the lie that I was nothing

My dreams, I’d dashed in bewildered anguish
Contemptuous and indignant, disillusioned, full of pain
And when the ground below my feet sloped down, before rising up again
As if a tiny valley secretly sang its presence there
I left all that haunted me behind in that small remnant of ravine

I went to reclaim what is mine
I took the steps one by one
And walked inside
And sat at their table

I went to reclaim what is mine
I returned triumphant, exhausted, grateful
At home again I met all those who watched me soar
And knew that I was welcome, able