I heard the splendor of fear,
  but I felt nothing.

I heard the harp of the New Albion,
its detuned chorale sweeping through the hills,
while a swarm of flies gathered in the sunlight nearby,
ushering in a new day –
  but I do not feel any differently now.

A black tapestry still hangs on the wall,
outside the doorway
  where our first visitor came,
  only to be sent away quickly,
  before you were awakened.

A silken thread floating in the wind,
before my eyes
  and I realize that I can finally see
  every color that can be reflected through air,
  in prismatic waves all around me.

Perhaps I am not blind after all,
  but only suspected of being so in a dream.

Unpublished Poems
May 2012