His fingers read the words that
his eyes could not see, for even
Though words weren't observed
He saw what he needed to read.

"That'll never happen,
"He couldn't do that,

Eyes were blank like paper but
Behind these envelopes were
Pictures birthed from roaming
Fingers gliding into other worlds.

"I am intrigued by what is said,
"Words speak ever so loudly,

He is of patience as he reads with
******* floating above pages.
Where others of sight do not see
Words but only what is seen.

"He reads pages of white silk?
"Crazy old fool.

This old one of hair of grey sitting
Peacefully as he sits in the old chair
Reading in solitude peace. His hands
Decline on other pages words move within.

He wonders the land a staff in hand,
He sees the world in other views.
Reading his stories his spells of unwritten
Words, he smiles at those passing.

*"Though I am blind I see everything in clear sight,