James Clemens, the orphaned deaf girls, and me

Blind
I see the beauty of the past estate
Of the brick and iron and imagine
The double decked porch upon which he must have stood, 
Without vision to the world before him.
Deaf, 
I hear the leaves rustling, the birds chirping,
the bugs rubbing,
The crunch of the weeds, the music of the ice cream truck.
The sounds of children that they themselves could not hear.
Heart:
Exposed to the elements, open to the world
Once filled with compassion, now
Left alone, scarred, unloved, hidden behind the
Stone and brambles. Invisible.
Body.
Rooted, and strong, defying to the world what is happening inside
Where the eyes no longer see the possibilities and the
Ears fail to hear any words of hope or comfort
And the heart can
No longer be broken for it has
Ceased 
To 
Beat.