Tuesday, March 6, 2018

Blind man in a scented garden

In a plum garden...
Hearing can be seeing
Son: This is a white blossom. Smell it?
Blind father: The fragrance has a purple tinge.
Son: A pink blossom. Touch it.
Blind father: Soft, like a young cheek.
Son: And the concert is beginning.
Blind father: Ah. I hear a koto. Tastes like spring water.
With age the senses fade. Sometimes one sense disappears completely. The other senses, and memory, assist.

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