Metamorphosis

Cloe

My eyes, once pillars of my world-understanding, are starting to lose their clarity. What is new?

My ears have faded so long ago that, if they were to be restored to their original sensitivity, I would wince from the pain.

Touch, that subtle sense of surroundings, has become toughened to the intemperance it has encountered.

My sense of smell, which served me earlier to know the herbs and spices of my trade, no longer elicits the hearty delight and repugnance that once distracted me from these rich ingredients. Lacking emotion, smell has slowly ceased to casually catch the drift of the wafting world.

Even taste has become alarmingly un-memorable; due perhaps to my preference for friendly meals over gusty feasts.

Admittedly, I have never been as fond of any of the others as I still am of sight. I am sad to see its once-sharp edge begin to soften .

Never-the-less, I feel myself in no way losing touch with the world around me. When set to the task, all senses still serve their purpose. It is not that any fail in their functions, but they have all faded in their appeal. What they have done is to put a face to the grand intuitions that also inform my humanity.

They have served best in my soul’s upbringing. My hearing has left me with music and words to share. Wherever touch became embrace, it has left me with warmth of heart. Whereas in my early life, I would look with little understanding, now I understand far more without a great deal of looking.

I consider this metamorphosis to be progress.

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