The birds watched as I made my way
A blind man groping among fruit trees
I’d say his life chafed against him
But he believed in alchemy
He said to himself, I am so vulnerable!
Hurry! Even on a warm afternoon
The world made him ill at ease
He stood a long while in blue weeds
He heard how the branches swung
In a wind that swings
In a life that sways toward life
A man nimble fingered
And so he found a smooth skin
At the bottom of the sky
Where his forehead fit
Kiss to kiss eyes closed
Though this wasn’t the story, not at all
It was the insignificant heart
That was what it was
Planet of the Blind 