I Wish You Could See What I See

I once saw a blind man who wandered to the sea.
He climbed mountains, he crossed deserts,
He walked where none could see.

Days he spent in solitude, nights he spent alone,
Stars could never be his guide
To lead him safely home.

Strange things happened in his wake, wherever he would dwell,
Strange things men are loathe to say,
Once they bid the man farewell.

I came upon his path one day,
Or perhaps he came to me,
One autumn-shaded evening,
As we gazed upon the sea.

He turned to me and held my gaze the way only blind men can.
He took my hand with gnarled grasp
And softly he began.

His tale was deeper than the seas he swam
Older than the mounts he crossed,
Darker than the world he lives,
And bleaker than the price of loss.

I cannot know how long I stood when his tale had reached its end
I did not see him walk away,
Nor even comprehend.

But once departed I still heard the final words he spoke,
They echoed faintly in my ears
Even as I woke.

When he left he whispered as his face remained serene:
"And now you see what I see
When I close my eyes and dream."