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I see a world into the eyes of a blind man, and
As his thoughts categorise into lapses of age,
Caravans of memory divide it from one form into another.
Float. Float-in-between time boundaries.
I see the world through the actions of this blind man, and
As he completes his first step, plunging into unknown grounds
I'm automatically taking four back; as floor-boards grow angry tainted with disturb.
They too don't come to contemplate the works of the man.
His mind entwines with every-nerve and impulse,
No alternative but spell binding chemistry,
Beneath the opaque bravado 10 times more power than come from me to you.
But invisible is un-comprehensible eye, the man.
Whose life is everything ... but a miracle.