Blind

Throughout my life of blindness,

I only asked about colours once.

I felt a breeze on my arm from my wife’s sigh as she thought.

She took me to a forest, 

And told me that the scorching heat from the sun that warmed the top of my head,

That was red. 

The colour of anger and love and frustration.

She told me it was the colour of passion.

The river was cool when I let my feet dangle in,

It rushed onward, refreshing and calm.

She told me it was blue, the colour of peace. 

I’ve decided that blue is my favourite colour.

I could feel the softness of the moss as she pressed my hand into it.

I could hear the chirping of the birds 

and the quiet skittering of the animals.

I felt my knees sink into the dirt, felt the connection to everything around me,

And she told me that was green, 

That it was growth and

Life.