Limitations

I am haunted by this short story:

“Once a fiddler played so sweetly that all who heard him began to dance, and whoever came near enough to hear, joined in the dance.  Then a deaf man who knew nothing of music, happened along, and to him all he saw seemed the action of madmen – senseless and in bad taste.”  (from Tales of the Hasidim, by Martin Buber)

There are those who hear what I cannot hear,

There are those who see what I cannot see.

Often, the poet hears that to which I am deaf.

Often, the artist sees that to which I am blind.

There are many who have helped me to hear a little better, and who have helped me to see a little clearer.

There are times when I can do no better than to recognize and accept my deafness and my blindness.

Before judging others, I must recognize and accept my limitations. 

There are those who imagine what I cannot imagine.

There are those who understand what I cannot understand.

There are those who feel what I cannot feel.

These limitations I recognize and accept . . . reluctantly.