Once someone told me
I was not done having affairs
I surmised its meaning
a human touch of warmth
as felt in dreams fleeting
yet years watched me falter
confused with sightless eyes
though clear with seeing
trapped me as blindness nigh
looking beyond lackluster need
striving toward pleasing
to win acceptance
in uncertainty
in platitudes shown vaguely thin
rooted amid trivial detritus
I stepped into an empty life
always out of reach
in plaintive din
I clearly discovered as late
the affairs of life I sought
walked alongside me
each step taken
each breath
of naught
are not affairs of the human kind
nor affairs of a heart of flesh
but an affair of a desperate need
to create missives with words
of light and breadth
that require none but my own
masked eyes to open and see
to cause my own spirit to soar
giving respite to my soul
without fear
nothing more
© February 2019 Renee Espriu
Image Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art
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