Heart

I am blind in the great city of the sighted. The taps of my cane on the asphalt say: I am crossing the street. The cars brake. The skin of my forehead takes in the warmth of people’s gaze. Kind passers-by, staring at me, made way for me and my cane, patient. The gifts of the treasury of kindness from the hearts of human beings brimming over, now, pour at my feet, without any stint, light upon light, at my feet: a blind woman in her own darkness, discoverer of the sight of your heart...