A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
My feet and the ground beneath
Are nothing but black,
All possible hazards lost to the eye.
Lantern swinging in hand,
The light remains exstinguished.
What I’m looking at has a million lights of its own.
Galaxies stretch before me.
I watch as they dance and grow and shoot away in awe.
I am walking blind
So that I can see it all.