You are the ones who taught me to
open
my eyes.
Look around you and notice the person at
the table not smiling,
the person talking too much,
the one who can’t get a word in,
and the one who got the wrong word out.
Like every family,
there is a dysfunctional twist that
tornadoes us away.
After the spin we come back together like
the birds in their trees or
the bees in their honey.
We may not taste as sweet at every
gathering,
but we are connected by
something stronger than
the blinding sun.
When I was blind,
and had no hand to grab
nor anyone to put a coin in
my cup.
it was one of you,
I can’t remember who,
but one of you touched me
and guided me to see something
real.
Here we are,
I can see,
I can sense,
and I can
think
of the
times we
laughed,
we shared,
we were there
together.
I see people side by side,
and I see no
tension that can’t be
acknowledged like the
coin in my cup.
Thank you,
stranger that you no longer are.