PASSING LOOK

A blind man walked into the busy tram
His cane tapped audibly on the wall
Of many a closed mind –

There was an unsteady way he shuffled about
Stumbled, and then clutched the railing
Without letting go of his staff, still swaying

In his other hand three polyethylene bags
Full of his grocery – I tried but
Could not read the look on his calm face.

I hate it when the conversations die,
He must be thinking, I’m thinking
As the whole tram stared at him

But he could not stare back.
Two stops later, he gingerly tapped his way
Out of the tram, his face calm, illegible.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

LOOK AGAIN

And then you will see
That blind people see
The things that are invisible
To you and to me

And then you will hear
What the deaf loudly hear
When silence is all
That you and I hear

And then you will understand
That children understand
To store deep in their memory
Things they don’t yet understand

When a moment full of pain
Opens up your heart again
And you learn to look again
And see again, and hear again.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

I heard a whisper
Which made more sense than it could have
And less sense than
It did

I felt a touch
Which was more intimate than it could have been
And less intimate than
It was

I met a stranger
Who looked more familiar than he should have
And less familiar than
He did

I perceived an odour
Which smelled nicer than it must have
And fouler than
It could

And then I saw a tempter
Who seemed exactly like I knew
A tempter ought not to be
Yet I knew it was temptation
Because it never answered my smile

Not the smile you see on my face
But the smile
That lives, always silent, in my heart

And the tempter
Does not answer this smile
Because how can you answer
What you don’t hear?

The silent smile who waits so gentle
Resides in everybody’s heart,
And anything that answers not my smile
Is not mine.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.