Tyehimba Jess

Issue #
February 18, 2013

Blind Boone's Blessings

Bless the fever in that night

in the sixth month of my life.

Bless the fever, for it gave me sight;

it swole my brain to fit God’s gift.

It brought the hand that would lift

each eye from my infant skull.

Bless the sweat; my baby bawl.

Bless the horse that hauled

the surgeon through dusk’s dark,

half drunk and swearing, into mine.

Bless the flame – it cauterized

the metal of the spoon. Bless the

path between lid and bone,

slipped and slid by that instrument

of my deliverance from sight. Bless

the handling of the knife. Bless

that night that gave me night,

wrapped it ’round my bloody

face, whispered how I could be

grace notes, arpeggios, a piano roll

of sound copying each note

from everything around me.

You see, I’m sure at first

there was the hurt

and the scalding pain.

But then again, bless

an infant’s too short

memory. All I know is

what lies beyond light.

I’ve learned this is what’s right

for this one right here. Yes, bless

the fever, then listen close.

Spare an ear to this piano

and shut your eyes closed…

There is no previous item
Go back to Top Menu
There is no next item
Go back to Top Menu