Autism’s World

Image courtesy of Brian Gaynor Photography

He didn’t know his was an altered existence –

Unaware that others missed the colours he felt,

His eyes conjured visions with remarkable patience.

In his other-world, where golden imagining dwelt,

Sunshine bred leaves, and reflecting waters shone

With an insistence born of cold necessity.

In his tightly woven shell, his soul withdrawn,

Only his eyes connected to this world only he could see.

To him, it pulsed with light, it breathed in hues

Like fairy dust; creatures of bedtime tales

Haunted its vistas wrapped in heavenly dews,

Visions and sights against which the real world pales…

Winding, Winding, Ever Winding…

Image courtesy of Brian Gaynor Photography

Winding, winding, ever winding.

Incessantly insistently stubbornly winding,

Path called to reluctant Feet.

As always, she could only see a few steps in front of her nose;

Obscurity wore the pants in this relationship.

Path liked to cloak itself in mysterious profundity,

Slinking under sheets of rain,

Shrouded in turban-cloths wound into mist,

Wrapping itself tightly into fists of fog.

And always, her feet followed at Path’s insistence.

Somewhere ahead, somewhere she hadn’t been yet, was

The Self that she sought in her dreams.

Always elusive, always fleeting,

She caught glimpses reflected from the microscopic mirror-specks of

Vapour hanging pregnant in the saturated air.

Fractured form and function,

Her shattered Self mocked with seven year’s bad luck.

And yet –

The Prophesy that drove her on, that fuelled her falter,

That cried through the whispers between leaves,

Promised a rainbow of Self fulfilled;

Quest beat with courage of steel in housing of paper.

So on Feet crept, blindly faithful,

Winding, winding, ever winding…