Receive Thy Sight - Sonnet 46

A flash of light, then everything is still,

Except for song and peaceful melody

Inside and out; the sky is read to me

Much like a novel, or more like the will

To fly against the wind-swept patterned grain

Or stomp across a library of myth,

Asunder tearing down the labyrinth

That winds me to and fro between the rain;

And yet, would fate much more define my state

If I had not? For what would change the more:

A ticker-tape parade of twenty-score

To clean the slate and levy forth the gate,

Or that enchanted light upon the skies

That unshackled the scales that chained my eyes?