Teach me…

Teach me...

Teach me
Teach me
Primordial hope.
Teach me blindness
So that wayward eyes
Pierce the shrouds
Of everything that
Endures. Teach
My breath to become
As a wave turned
Upon itself as
It seeks confirmation
Through threshold seeking
Tones of nascent glass.
Teach this light to
Speak the language of
The wayfarer’s lament.
Digest its symbolism
And learn its journey
Through each new
Shade of meaning.
Teach the night
To believe again.

Art: “Moonlight, 1887”
Albert Pinkham Ryder

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