Why must I know what day it is in order to prove that I am cognizant?
Time is a shape shifting chameleon
Once a sundial or a watch of the night
Now it monitors the heart
Attempts to forecast the rain
And makes us feel the limits of the box we cannot bust out of on our own
Meanwhile
Eternity, the Infinite
Has already won.
You tell yourself it will do no good
To acknowledge the child who floated in the beads of the ultrasound or the mantras of the obstetrical attending—
It is for her best not to know
Or the terrible error in calculating
The time it takes to unpack and repack a Pilot
A truck, an Accord, a house, a life
You tell yourself
It would have happened by now
The Icarus Moment
The violent fall
When an ordinary man walks into light eternal
Only to become it
We will all be changed
Some moments last for all
Eternity
I used to live in a country
Where people ate the soul and flesh of both men and animals
Fish dinners too terrible to recount
Little bears with amputated paws
So when you tell me
The living have lost their
Eyes, their lungs, their tongues, their voices, their unborn children
I will believe you
Even though I do not want to
Sarah? He asks on the street by the Rucker library
I look bewildered. No, not Sarah
You look so much like her!
Dark? Pretty? Young?
We never met
But recently it has been happening again—over and over
So many times
In Spanish and in other tongues—
Fatima? Esperanza? Rachel?
Who are they now?
Grey! Rumpled! Doughy!
We are a sisterhood across decades and barricades
The Sarahs by the library of now
Beauty behind, light ahead
Trump offers Iranian soccer team asylum after Australia’s ‘terrible mistake’ | The Independent
— Read on www.independent.co.uk/bulletin/sport/trump-iranian-womens-soccer-team-asylum-national-anthem-b2934890.html
please pray for these courageous women
The Court of Appeal ruling ends what’s thought to be the longest-running miscarriage of justice in British history.
— Read on news.sky.com/story/peter-sullivan-who-has-spent-38-years-in-jail-for-murder-has-conviction-quashed-13363928
https://www.google.com/search?q=diane+sindall+1986&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&hl=en&client=safari#lfId=ChxjMe
I can picture her, but not her name. She said that when she was growing up they had swimming lessons that were entirely land-based.
Stand and glide your arms in the air above your head!
Lie down and kick your legs!
She never said they worked
No one learns to swim
Without the water
The figures are angels making white boxes which should be bassinets, cribs, playpens
They grow weary the way only angels can
Not tired, dismayed to the marrow and bones of light
When they and
The dreamer
All realize
The humans are taking refrigerators and turning them into whitewashed
Sarcophagi
For the littlest ones
The Master says he is going on a long journey and that we should keep watch, he can return at any moment, like a thief in the night.
The canine sentinels sound their alarm as clouds gather fast
Across the face of a radiant moon
For now, unrequited
questions
This question originally appeared on Quora.
— Read on slate.com/human-interest/2013/12/what-does-it-feel-like-to-be-blind.html
Carrying Light 