I See My Child
By Adrienne Clark
March - November 2010
This is still a work in progress. Comments are welcome. Especially if something seems too cliche or inadvertently involves a "sight" word.
(Yeah, yeah, I used stock photos and pictures from ads, so shoot me)
This is still a work in progress. Comments are welcome. Especially if something seems too cliche or inadvertently involves a "sight" word.
(Yeah, yeah, I used stock photos and pictures from ads, so shoot me)
My eyes are blind, I cannot see,
Since my birth just dark to me.
Well, so they tell me, I do not know,
What is “dark” if that’s all you know?
What is light, what is color?
I can't imagine, only wonder.
But one small bit of sight I own:
My husband taught me the rainbow.
“Red,” he told me, “is like velvet,
Rich and powerful, seductive.
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“Orange is the heat of embers,
Intense on eyes, like close-up fingers.
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| kylelightner.com |
“Yellow, half again as strong,
Jumps at eyes like cat from arms.
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| zedge.net |
“Green’s the smell of rain on clover,
Fresh, like grass from the lawnmower.
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“Blue’s the shade of peace and calm,
How cool streams run across your palm.
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“Indigo’s a deeper blue,
The cold of night sky over you.
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“Purple, tranquil calm of dusk,
Not quite cold, yet day’s warmth lost.
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“Brown, the smell of dust and ground,
Earthy, rich, and full and round.
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“Grey the feel of dreary rain,
Not light nor hard, just flat and plain.”
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| edward-weston.com |
Black is what he says I see,
I suppose it’s true; it’s color-free.
“But white,” he says, “the touch of wind,
Is pure and fresh, without a sting.
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| earthbeone.com |
“Pink, sound of a young girl’s voice,
A little giggle, darling noise.
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“That,” he said, “is like our child,
Silly, yes, but sweet and mild.”
I’ve felt her face, I know its parts,
But not how it speaks to the heart.
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| life-times.net |
Yet finally he found the words
To tell me the dear sight of her.
“Her eyes are glass, with a gleeful dot
As bubbly as soda-pop.
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| original un-cropped: kellykuntz.com |
“Her smile fills her face with joy,
Like a growing, soaring major chord.
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| life-times.net |
“She jumps and twirls in delight,
Like throwing scarves, but thrice as light.
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“And when she sleeps, her peaceful face,
Is the calm, smooth clarinet of grace.
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“Then when you hold her, her safe place,
A soft love fills her quiet face.”
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“Mama!” I hear feet run to me,
I scoop her up, but now I see.
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| nwf.org |
The tears drip down out of my eyes,
The greatest gift from my husband wise
Is holding my child in front of me,
Knowing my daughter I finally see.
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| staller.sunysb.edu |
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