I am returning to life after a series of strokes blinded me. I really don’t know what to say, but that I am conscious again and sight is returning. Thanks, God. It’s amazing what’s to see out there in the world. So, I think I’ll use this gift to compose poetry.
by Mike Strom
It’s a world that I return to from the night
cannot be right… am wrong I suppose, but is delight.
Sanctity, of sanity, inanity, words lost
images tossed through memories
that are stirring and I wish
oh, I wish to count the stars once again,
to trod the ice hard concrete cold nights
colder bytes of reality that I see wandering back at me
Who can see? Can I see?
Let my big slow moving dreams hatch
with the sun breaking over the Sierras
let shasta gleam in icy light
my memories compound
my nights turn to glory
tight Willamette Valley dreams
spread once more across the sea
reaching back to me
in curling rollers of fantasy.