Had I been born in a world of darkness, never to see,
I would ask my friends what color is, for the life of me.
I would search with my trembling hands, my fingertips,
The descriptive words, the beautiful, would be my plea.
I would ask those who may be now without any sight,
What it was once like, a brightening of a moonlit night.
Could the sun cast wondrous tones of its colors about,
As the dawning forms, or of the sun's setting, no doubt.
What would flowers so often spoken of, be in appearance,
Is each of its variety so marvelous in their own radiance?
How many plants smell so sweet, in their most rich nectar,
Just why is their presence so applauded, such a specter?
I would so inquire why the blue sky gets such renown,
What a storm cloud looks like, and why the loud sound?
Is seeing all there is to life, or is there to be much more,
Why a God created us each and what we have in store?
Do the cooling breezes I feel on my face in the evening time,
That warming sunlight on my skin, why all seem so sublime?
The sweet taste of dessert, smells, or deliciousness of stew,
A calming security felt in warming baths, all count for us too?
Yes, to see the beauty around me, all would be so swell,
The love one gives as they know they are loved, as well.
An understanding that each of us has a special meaning,
Our lives all count, everyone, loss of sight, not intervening.
© 2017 whonunuwho