poem repost

TALKING SIDEWALKS


In my neighborhood where all the trees touch in the middle of the street

and old people shuffle smile dandy looking with very small dogs

and the world seems slow and stretchy like taffy

the blind come on weekdays to our sidewalks to practice navigating the world



there is a blind school about a mile up the road

and at some point the school scouted our little block for white cane utopia

a few days a week when we walk our sidewalks slowly

we see people of all ages with canes and teachers

and they point the white tipped canes to the curb and tap

hard

like

listen

this is important

and the blind put their heads back and feel the breeze and listen to the world

to the most important thing they know



and I tell Blaise about what I know when he asks me

why do eyes break and are they dead mom

and I tell him that that they cannot see

that things do happen

all the time

that babies are born into the dark

and people lose things



and I used to be afraid that something terrible and awful was going to happen to me

or all the people that I love

one perfect day

just like that

like you are walking around a pretty town and it would all go dark

all go dead



and I know that

now more than anything I am afraid to not see

see everything that is going on around me

and the blind can hear me all the way over here inside of the house by the sidewalk they travel

they can hear me type words and bake cakes

and bath babies and scream

with my windows open wide all summer



they can hear me and I can see them

and I can see everything that is beautiful in my life

and it is my job to find my own religion now

the spirituality of this is what it is

I need to see my life

really see it

and have devotion to it



and I whisper the smallest sounds when we walk by the blind

pushing the stroller

carrying the library books

like a game

like a test

I whisper out






i love you


and thank you


and this is all going to be ok


for everyone


and you are important


and the world is beautiful


because we are all in it



and sometimes I think they hear me

even though I whisper like a tiny ant

and sometimes they smile