He never saw sunlight but he felt its glow;
He’d never seen flowers or watched them grow;
He only could touch them; he liked what he felt,
The taste of beauty when their perfume he smelt.
The rain on his face seemed so gentle and kind—
He would give all to see but he was born blind;
He sensed in his heart all the colour around
Through touching and smelling and tasting and sound.
Cool wind softly whispers of mountains and trees
Of far-away lands, barren deserts and seas;
They bestir in his heart a sadness profound;
How blessed are all those who can see their surrounds!
A movement of people? The sound of a throng!
Listens intently—Who’s this coming along?
“Son of David” he calls, “have mercy on me;”
He stops and heals him—Bartimaeus can see.
What a change, what beauty, what colour abounds!
Creation is stunning, its glory astounds—
From darkness to light—what a different day,
When Christ heals the blindness and lights up the way!
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