Editor's note: Shaping Clay is always open for submissions of guest art and poetry from the wider disability community. If you have something you'd like to see on this blog, please send it to my Facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/mscottwrites.
The Firewalker's Hope
by Tasha Raella
Sharing my sightedness with you
is like worrying at plastic packaging
with my bare hands
because the world has no scissors left.
Sharing my rejection
when you treat me as if I were blind
is like piloting a leaking dinghy
over white-tipped rapids.
Sharing my wish for paintings I can’t see
reminds me of the eight hundred pound gorilla
who went entirely unnoticed. We are talented
at ignoring the unexpected.
Sharing my shuttered joy
when you let me look through the window of your eyes
is like witnessing your walk, painless,
over hot coals.
Sharing my conviction that I am not what I appear
is like battling a sphinx. I should surrender.
She has had millennia
to justify her existence.