A pair of hands hold a conductor's wand as if directing a symphony

Chains, a Poem by Elyana Ren1 min read

A pair of hands hold a conductor's wand as if directing a symphony
Thinks in poetry, lives in prose
Dreams in colors she cannot under­stand
The music of her words is lost
In the starts and stops of
Will they hear the song they asked for?

The rhythm of her move­ments
Of her hands con­ducting the world before her
Hindered by chains of expec­ta­tions stretching
As far back as this is what the Bible says
As far back as you look like a crazy person
As far back as babies should not cry this much
As far back as she will be blind

Now, she dances, shaking the ground, the chains, the cage
Sings at the top of her voice
I am here, listen to me
Hands shaping and words naming all the things
She loves about her­self

Her world is pic­tures of what other people see
Interactions others inter­pret
But the music of it, the cadence of rat­tling chains
The rhythm of her fum­bling speech and hands that shape
These are hers and hers alone
As far back as bless this child
As far back as I love you
As far back as kin­dred spirit
As far back as not broken
As far back as
I am blind. I am autistic. I am dis­abled. I am proud.
I will make you uncom­fort­able
That is my normal — you will look on it and see
The poetry that colors my world
The prose I write into yours
The dreams I will never stop dreaming

As long as I am here
As long as the chains I will weave into armor
As long as they won’t under­stand
As long as I must fight
I will

This poem was orig­i­nally pub­lished on A Prism Uncovered.

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1 Comment

  1. Thank you for this poem.
    I’m going to be dec­o­rating my flat soon, can I borrow it ( sort of per­ma­nently 😮 ) print and frame it for my wall please?

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