There is nothing here.
Beauty is futile
It lasts only a moment,
To be replaced by everyday normal.
There is nothing to see.
The skies match the slate gray streets.
The grass is withering,
Pale, dead, motionless.
Yet he drinks it all in,
As if it were worth consuming.
He hangs onto my every word
Like a man grasping the edge
of a cliff.
There is nothing to give.
The world is as empty as the cracks on the sidewalk.
He can feel the bitter wind,
The sharp, biting rain,
Heavy sorrow hanging in the air.
Still, he begs for a world.
Most of all, he begs for light.
There is nothing here.
Yet, slowly, I begin to see the world I have built for him-
Where the trees are strong and sturdy,
The lakes sparkle like the sound of glass,
And tiny spears come down from the heavens,
Not to kill, but to nurture.
I now realize
It is not he who has been blind,
But me
Published December 1, 2021
Written by Yilin Tan ~ Edited by Sarah Wilenzick ~ Graphics created by Elwin Fu
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