I am not blind.
and I cannot ignore it.
You are each feature,
in a cloud, an elm , the brushing past of waves over a turtle.
Each stick and stone --
rain and umbrella,
ground, step and sole,
the long-winded and the one-word answer.
All Your finesse -- a streamer in the fine sand of time's beaches
I hear Your Word
and my deaf eyes hear
my mute hands see
I Love You
Your Beloved
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