Lights

The sun beats down so hard I cannot see
And yet what need have I of working eyes?
There can be no shock, awe, even surprise
For me that can arrive visually.
No, I dare even say there cannot be
A single doubt that ever could arise
A worry, fear, suspicion, or surmise
Within my mind, or anywhere in me
Out of my vision: for I understand
The world not through my eyes but through my heart
And what that sees is where I end and start;
From its impressions only I expand,
And it knows well the world in which I stray
Your love is light enough to show my way.