*~~*

There are people who are blind
I can look at myself in the mirror.
And see the tears in my mom’s eyes.

There are people who are deaf.
I can hear the rain fall on my roof top
And the thunderstorm that fills me with terror.

There are people who can’t speak.
I can talk, I can sing.
And I yell, I shout, I scream.

There are people who can’t smell.
I breathe
And I breathe in: the aroma of my favorite delicacy and the cologne that reminds me of somebody.

There are people who can’t walk.
I can dance.
I get pins and needles in my foot.

There are people who don’t have hands
I can join my hands and pray
But my prayers are unheard anyway.

There are people who are insane.
I can think. I muse.
And I wonder

I wonder: Am I still blessed?
Am I luckier any day?