Life crowds its way in,
demanding the space,
flooding pages with brilliant light.
A lazy hand dawdles,
twirling slowly
over jumbled letters,
lost in their subtlety.
If only it were braille –
she might have a chance to
glean the meaning,
pulling it slowly from
the soft rise and fall
of the bumps,
feeling their essence slide
beneath her fingers,
until stunning ideas
lodge themselves
in her soul.

– ljg 1991