Awakenings.

I heard a quiet tapping on the path,
I heard a quiet laugh,
I turned to see him smiling on a child,
A blind man with his staff.
I watched him as he shuffled on his way,
The child tossed her head,
He could not see her curls, yet heard
The pretty thing she said.
I wondered at the trust she showed in him,
That child who blessed the day,
I wondered how that man deprived of sight,
Could tell where danger lay.
And after they were lost within the crowd,
I saw myself anew,
I saw then how misfortune and the times
When pain had come were few.
What right had I to feel depressed and worn,
To feel so much in need?
What right when one with sightless eyes could laugh?
—That sight had sown a seed.

—Josephine Rae.