Blind Man

Blind man needs to find the bus stop,
obviously confused, but turning here
and there can hardly help when nothing's
there to see. People pass, he hears them,
feels the change of air when bodies
move around him, wary of a man with
handicap, he might be crazy too, even
though he's old, or because he's old
and doesn't seem to be the cleanest
either, just keeping moving. Someone
else will do it, not to worry, let's get
home before the game begins. But
no one helps him and he's wondering
how he'll get home now that he's lost,
forget the medicine he needed to pick up.
No boy scouts on the street that day
in search of deeds to do, or Christians, either,
or perhaps there were. Afraid he'd ask
them to lay hands on him and
pray that he be healed, as Jesus did to
one born blind, perhaps they looked the
other way or spent the afternoon in praise
to God for giving them such perfect vision.
Quran says that eyes aren't blind but hearts,
so maybe Muslim motorists took verse
at word and didn't see the man at all.
To Buddhists, blindness is a punishment
of sorts and interfering might not be the best
of roads to take. Hindus, too, would make
decision to pass by because he may have
used his eyes for something evil in past
lives and now he'll learn his lesson
before moving on to something higher.
Republicans or Democrats in SUVs or
compacts may have thought how sad
that some old man had either used up all
his benefits this month or thought to
start a focus group on problems of
the blind in our community.
One man had finished errands, heading
home and saw him from the corner
of his eye. Without a second thought,
he stopped and turned around, and took
the blind man to the drug store and then
home. One man without a formal creed
beyond the need to be the kind of man
he'd want to stop, were he a blind man
out there on the street
just trying to get home.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013


True story, this, apart from my conjecture about those who passed by.