I have poor eyes
And always have.
Both near and far away,
Things blur into an indistinct haze.
Corrective lenses offer a crisp clarity
When I slide my glasses on.
But I have never been color blind
And hope never to be.
For the world is awash in colors,
Subtle hues and rioting shocks of arrogant yellows and neon greens,
Deep dark blues bordering on black,
And half-hearted pastels.
To miss out on such variety
With a boring pallet of sameness
Would drain the world of so much life.
I will never view people as if I were color blind,
Depriving the world of rich skin tones,
Pale vanillas and dark chocolates
And every sweet shade in between.
There is depth in difference.
I am enamored by strangeness,
This world filled with people who seem as odd to me
As I seem to them.
I do not want to be color blind,
Acting as if all were the same,
Blended and bland.
No, I want my glasses on,
Corrective lenses helping me see
And relish
Every variety of humanity,
Each one a gift of God
To brighten the world he loves.