Spiritual Sisters
Spiritual Healing Serene Salad
Spiritual Voices Creativity Bakery
The Snow-Blind
As men who once have seen
White sun on snow, white fire on ice,
And in a wide noon, shadowless,
Gone blind with light,
So these men walk who once have seen
God without veils--the mind's
Momentary and blinding birth of sight.
To them henceforth we are but shape and shadow;
Fog-forms, hands moving in the mist,
Our houses dark, our halls are winding tunnels,
Our little triumphs less than little straws
Balanced above a sparrow's nest.
And from that hour we call them dangerous men and
Strange,
Bigoted, fierce, loud croakers of a dream,
Anarchists, atheists, we say
Wo walk, eyes stretched as blind men walk
But ask no man the way.
© Josephine W. Johnson
Year's End