Let There Be Light

AS I was going to bed in the dark one night, I saw a brilliant flash of flat white in the corner of one eye. This gave me a fright, for I had read that this could be a sign of the retina in the process of detaching.
Well it was late, and the only place to go would be the Emergency Ward. That was the advice given, to get there at once. And could I dare to drive there with this threat? The only other person in the house was a non-driver.
I decided to wait a while to see if anything developed (or de-veloped).
But I was scared, because, to my knowledge, based on reading and a couple of television drama versions of the experience, this detaching thing is very, very painful.
I blinked and I winked, and I worried myself half dead. My heart was beating too fast and my breathing became too shallow.
I struggled to gather my separate parts and to pull myself together. The flash was still there when I blinked, but it seemed to be fading. And when I opened the eye that was under attack, I could still see. And nothing else was happening.
I went to bed.
I think I got some sleep. I must have, because I remember dreaming.

Now, having just written a blog about light and not light, and several blogs about memory, I was reminded of this scary episode.
But now I became mindful again of the power of light, and the death of physical vision by darkness.
And, being me, I made the metaphoric connection of the mind being blind, in some people, willfully mind blind.
And so I jotted a few thoughts into my notepad.
What follows is a rough draft from those notes. I’m leaving this as a rough draft because the experience is rough, the experience of the white flash warning, and the experience of being blind—either way.

And no, the retina did not detach, nor did that flashing light warning repeat.

And no, I don’t usually explain my poems, but I thought a little context might be of interest.
So keep your eyes healthy.
And be mindful of your mind.
Thanks for listening.
—

From my note pad

Notes about memory
Random notes for intended poem for contest, ddln feb 6-15

Let There Be Light

Let there be light
For those who are blind
Blind of the eye
Blind of the mind

(I wrote) white light in corner of the eye

Memories of light

No light, no see,
No see, no delight
In faces or places
In colour or who’s taller
and who’s smaller
or if you’re in stasis

An urge to holler
But no time to waller
In self pity concern or
Self doubt

Yet
The sky, the moon, the stars
All disappear
The grass, the leaves the trees
ID-ed only by memory and feel
Then you’d know what a big deal
It is not to see
To live, not to grope
Your way
In a newly disarranged
And disconnected old world

So pity the person
Who can see no light
With eyes or with mind
The one whose curse on
His being is blind
And is left to imagine
To live
His life in his memories

—

So pile on the memories
While there is time
For you never know
What it is that’s your due
You may be stricken
Today or tomorrow
And you will be desperate
And want to borrow
More time
And to beg for some light
—
So
Remember
Remember the view
Remember your friends
Remember to remember
You’ll need all of this
Before the memory fades
Before the lights are snuffed out

All images from Word Clip Art