Spectrum in Iris

Oh my, blind son

  Tell me how can you dream?

When you sleep do you reach,

  Into the world that’s unseen?

 

Oh my, blind son

  Show me- how do you cry?

When all the wickedness in this world,

  Passes from your stone  eyes

 

Oh my, blind son

  How can I help?

From wishing to startle you with all the marvels,

  But too troubled with how you felt

 

Oh my, blind son

  Sometimes I feel so far away

From your touch, which once was beaming,

  That now has lost its effervescent rays

 

Oh my, blind son

  I sit here for you, during the night

Praying to God so you can perceive me,

  Or to restore your idle sight

 

So my, blind son

  As if he knows what I'm thinking, looks up at me,

And says so sweetly “Father, only you father,

  I truly do see”

Author's Note

A poem I wrote recently about a man and his blind son. Thank you for reading.