06-20-2015, 01:56 PM
I spoke to a blind man on a bench in the park today.
He asked me to describe what was happening around us.
I had just walked about the park for fifteen minutes with nothing on my mind
but the bleakness of my job and relationships, and the hopelessness of my ambitions.
I hadn’t noticed the ducklings in the stream following their mother,
or the family sitting on a flannel blanket delighted by their presence.
I didn’t hear the busker pluck his chords and sing “hallelujah”
while more leaves than coins fell into his guitar case.
I never saw the dog chase after its frisbee, unable to catch it in the air,
pounce upon it on the ground.
I hadn’t seen the teenagers partially hidden in an enclave of trees
sit in a circle, passing around a paper smile, laughing at the wind.
I never thought to look.
He asked me to describe what was happening around us.
I had just walked about the park for fifteen minutes with nothing on my mind
but the bleakness of my job and relationships, and the hopelessness of my ambitions.
I hadn’t noticed the ducklings in the stream following their mother,
or the family sitting on a flannel blanket delighted by their presence.
I didn’t hear the busker pluck his chords and sing “hallelujah”
while more leaves than coins fell into his guitar case.
I never saw the dog chase after its frisbee, unable to catch it in the air,
pounce upon it on the ground.
I hadn’t seen the teenagers partially hidden in an enclave of trees
sit in a circle, passing around a paper smile, laughing at the wind.
I never thought to look.