Classic Poem

Man , deprived of sight,
Grows sharp and keen
To the feeling of light,
The sound of things seen.

Deprived of sound,
His eyes see clear;
Shapes form around
What he cannot hear.

With a new sense
He bridges across
The incompetence
Of a great loss.

And out of the dark
He learns to feel
A thought's deep mark,
The power to heal

Of unseen sight,
Unspoken word,
Which by a light
Touch may be stirred.

A sense of living
In blackened root,
Decay receiving
The ripened fruit.

Where feeling ends,
Where memories live,
He apprehends
Grown thus sensitive.