Gray day terror of unseen all
descends, amends lazy, hazy
nothingness – ignorance, not bliss,
this; this invisibility
of unfortunate plight
drains hope, color and light,
from marrow of a malformed me.

Into such a world you enter:
taskmaster, intruder in dank,
dark, mindless mind of mine. Your faith
can no more save me than the God who
turned, turned off sight and sound and speech,
left leaving lonely out of reach.
See, I shall be your Waterloo.

I kick, nick your pride, scream, deem
you unfit without use of words.
Yet you stay and say with soft hand
you care, will bear with me, refuse
to leave me. Your arms hold
me, then let me go, let
me fall, stall if I choose to lose.

Your touch becomes an opening,
a pathway to transformation
paved with new discovery,
brimming full with activity.
Your fingers form my lips
to speak sounds and launch ships
across vast unimagined seas.

You are my life’s interpreter;
conceiver, believer of great
possibility. You have become
spirit-shaker, meaning-maker,
radiant, shimmering one
who births vision where none
was before. Dream on, care-taker.

Ever on the way to being,
becoming more, finding new doors
to tomorrow’s joy, I depend
on nuanced rapport, friendship fine,
guidance adamantine,
ever-present lifeline.
Please stay, miracle worker mine.

Live the miracle with me.