[Editors’ Note: Learn about how the “Nine Poets Speak” series came to be in place here.]
Photo by Zenad Rafel on Unsplash
After a great loss,
healing is a surprise.
When the artificial lens in my right eye
began slipping,
my eye surgeon told me, “Don’t worry” —
she would remove the old lens
and sew a new one in its place.
She told me that after the operation —
“a big one” she called it —
I would regain sight.
“Don’t worry,” she said again,
and she was right.
The healing felt like a slow-moving miracle,
adagio tempo.
Six weeks later,
I was clearly seeing
words and numbers on the computer,
prices on the grocery store shelves,
the size of articles of clothing,
street signs. I rediscovered
what a joy it is to read with ease.
I wrote my first poem in four years.
Another miracle — I had almost given up
on ever writing again.
May I practice a gentle patience
as the wounds of my psyche heal
and I re-learn poetry.