Gift of Sight

I wandered far through evening dust,
without a map, just silent trust.
Cool winds whisper through scented pines,
hidden riddles and secret signs.

Under the moon, lavender hues,
wild flowers wept with drops of dew,
I found it there, glimmer so small,
half buried near an ancient wall.

A lens of glass, felt strangely warm,
it felt as though it held a storm.
I raised it gently to my eye,
witnessed magic reshape the sky.

Enchanted optical stood clear,
the earth turned soft and drew me near.
No sorrows touched the children’s play,
night could not steal the song from day.

Rivers laughed loud in crystal light,
mountains stood tall with humble might.
Each face I saw, serene, unscarred,
free hearts unchained, all spirits starred.

What is this place? A dream or spell?
a truth the broken seldom tell?
I gasped, then wept, not out of pain,
but wonder I could not contain.

I slowly lowered lens from sight,
the world returned to shade and fright.
Deep in my soul, the vision stayed,
a map of what could be, if made.

Now through that glass I sometimes see
not just this life, but what could be,
pray all new steps taken are blessed,
to bring that vision into rest.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

Moonwashed Weekly Challenge May 20, 2025
Prompt – Lens/ Eye/ Magic/World