Batman

He lives each day in darkness

In a world that knows no light

Wonderfully created

A servant without sight


Some would say his blindness

Is a disability

But they don’t know the man

Behind the eyes that cannot see


It’s only through the darkness

That he came to see the Son

It’s only though his blindness

That he sees the victories won


He touches hearts like no one can

For he sees beyond the skin

He reaches past the outer core

To the beauty that lies within


Equipped by God and gifted

He sees himself as blessed

Not hindered by imperfect eyes

He wants to give his best


Made special in his Maker’s sight

Though he has none of his own

Giving God the glory

For the seeds that he has sown


© Ruby Neumann




Poet's Note: Today, I am sharing a poem I wrote almost 25 years ago.  Today, I got to remember a man I got to know who left an imprint on my life.  Today, I was given a link to his obituary.  He passed away in 2009.  So today, I will post his poem as my way of remembering him. 


In the summer of 1996, I got the opportunity to volunteer at Camp Chamisall in the Waiporous Valley. I was working at that time at the Colpitts Dairy farm in Springbank (in the outskirts of Calgary). Camp Chamisall operated it's summer program on volunteer staff.  Each week there was a new collection of counsellors, program staff, camp director, cooking staff.  It gave more people the opportunity to be a part of camp.  


Wally Brown was someone I met at camp.   Wally was a regular at Camp Chamisall.  He was a story teller.  I wish I had a collection of his stories.  They were a highlight of my time there.  


I titled this poem "Batman" because that was Wally's name at camp.  Chamisall does something with their staff that I have never seen at any other camp.  They give them camp names when they first come on staff at camp and those names stay with them for the journey of their time at Chamisall.  Batman was Wally's camp name, because Wally was blind.  He wasn't born blind, his sight loss was because of diabetes.  I found this excerpt in Wally's obituary. 


"Wally lost his sight in 1971 due to complications of diabetes, and although he faced adversity, he courageously persevered. Wally will be fondly remembered for having an incredibly positive outlook on life, regardless of the enormous challenges he faced."


It was one week, and it was twenty five years ago, but so much of my experience there was a beautiful one, because of him.  I remember sitting with him at the dining hall table and just talking about him.  I remember wanting to see inside his world.  I remember him sharing his joys and his challenges with me.  I even got a chance to go and visit him at his home in Calgary.  He never ceased to impress me with his courage and joy.  


Thank you Batman...I never want to forget you.  Love Butter Cup

When I’m not there


Walk with me, daughter 

Before the close of day

Walk with me, beside me

Right now, I’ll lead the way


I have guided you for a while 

On your journey this far

I've been here each step

With you, just as you are


Soon you must walk 

Without me at your side

But I trust you’ve learned well

You won’t need me to guide


Your faith, hope and courage 

Will be your strength every day

From here on in

As you go on your way


When I’m not there 

To wipe your fallen tears

Remember me 

And our happier years


When I’m not there to walk with you

On your wedding day

Remember this walk and know

I am not far away


I will be as close to you

As the thoughts in your mind

As the photographs of me 

That you've taken over time 


And walk then with me

At the close of day

Know that I am a part of you 

And I am not far away


© Ruby Neumann



Written October 28, 2020


Poet's Note: There is a father whose days are numbered.   As much as he wants to keep hope alive,  his face shows the cancerous predator within him.  How can he prepare his daughter for life without him?  Maybe he takes her on walks and leaves with her a memory of their steps together.  Maybe he thinks of the day he won't be able to walk with her when she wants him, the most, by her side… on her wedding day.  What does he tell her, today?  Maybe they walk in silence.  


I remember my last walks with my Dad.  Cancer took him fourteen months before my wedding.  Today it is twelve years and nine months since he passed away.   I remember him in this poem, but not only him… there is another daughter who is taking her last walks with her Dad.  I am thinking of her.  

The Road up to One

From where I dwell

In the sand, in the dirt

Where life begins

Created from

I look to the stars

And wonder when

I might touch their beauty

Find their glow

But I dwell 

In the sand, in the dirt


Oh star, I have disappointed you

Oh star, why do you intimidate me so

Do you see my chaos from where you shine


To climb to you, I need a rope

I need direction and a little hope


Shine on me and guide my way

Lift me up to where you stay


Oh, to know that which powers you

Which would help me on my journey too


Energy that seems so hard to know

To get close, to reach, this journey is slow


But if I look up from my pit I just might see

The falling star coming down to me




© Ruby Neumann


Written October 20, 2020 


Poet's Note: 


I saw a falling star this morning while I was in the hot tub. It was that moment in the morning when the light was just starting to push out the darkness.  I had my head down for a time and was feeling heavy, but in a moment, I lifted my head up to gaze on the morning sky, and I saw it.  A falling star.  It was the end of this poem.  Rarely do I start at the end of a poem.  But today, I did - with a falling star.  


A little Enneagram insight:  


I think I heard once that the Enneagram is better taught, not in books or seminars, but in poetry.  And I ask myself… what does poetry offer that intellectual thought and exposition don't?  Maybe it is perspective.  Maybe through poetry, I can find a way to understand the complexity of the Enneagram through the lens of a Four.  But since not everyone is a Four… I offer thought and exposition in the form of a Poet's Note! 


This poem is about that elusive energy of the One.  That's right.  As a Four… the One is the path to integration for me.  I am yet a novice to the wisdom of the Enneagram, but my path to integration is still a mystery to me.  It's not that the One is unknown to me… quite the opposite.  I have been around that One energy for all my life.  It just seems unattainable for me, in my space.  What does it look like for a Four to integrate.  The books, the seminars and the videos on Youtube will tell me… but this morning, I wanted the poetry to tell me why I find that One as far away as the stars.  


The falling star... is the One coming to Four in stress.  Now some teacher's remind me that the move to our stress number is not always a bad thing.  So maybe in that light... as a Four... I have something to offer the One... I, too, have a guide to help when the One needs a place to hide, withdraw to, or retreat to.  


A little Poetry insight: 


This might be the first poem I've written (and I've written a lot) that combines free verse and rhyme.  Free verse to me symbolized the chaos of the Four. Rhyme to me is more in line with the order of the One.  So the picture of the path of integration in poetry made sense to go from free verse to rhyme.  I also chose a font change to further portray the difference and the change in energy.