Tiresias And Oedipus: a Virtual Dialogue Between Sight And Blindness Poem by Mohammad Yousef

In the shadowed corners of Thebes,
where the air thickens with unshed tears,
Oedipus stands—
king, seeker,
the man who pierced the truth with a sword,
yet wears a crown of thorns upon his brow,
each point a tale of hubris,
a reckless reach for knowledge
that spirals into madness.

His eyes,
once blazing with the fire of clarity,
now clouded with the mist of despair,
search for the edges of fate,
the lines of a prophecy
written not in ink,
but in the blood of his kin.

Tiresias, the seer,
blind yet seeing,
a man swathed in the dark fabric of the cosmos,
echoes the whispers of the gods,
his mind a tapestry of visions,
each thread woven with the fabric of sorrow
and the weight of truth.
He stands before Oedipus,
the paradox of sight,
the embodiment of depth.

**Oedipus: **
'Tell me, Tiresias!
What do your hidden eyes see?
What shadows lurk in the alleys of prophecy,
waiting to ensnare a king,
to unmask the horror
I dare not face?
Is there a glimmer,
a shard of light in this dark labyrinth,
that could guide my faltering steps? '

**Tiresias: **
'Ah, Oedipus,
the light you seek is a false dawn,
a flicker that blinds rather than reveals.
You, who chase the echoes of your own making,
are ensnared in the web of your desires.
Your vision is a cruel joke,
a mirage danced upon the horizon,
while I,
in my blindness,
hold the mirror to your soul,
reflecting the truth you cannot bear to see.'

**Oedipus: **
'But I am the king!
I have saved this city,
I have banished the scourge of the Sphinx!
How can you,
who sees not the world,
claim to understand the heart of man?
Is it not within the light of day
that we find clarity,
the power to shape our destiny? '

**Tiresias: **
'Ah, but destiny is not shaped,
it is unveiled,
a shroud lifted by the hands of fate.
You wear your crown like a blindfold,
and in your quest for vision,
you drown in the depths of your own creating.
What is sight, dear king,
if it is not an illusion,
a fleeting moment of clarity
before the storm?
I may be blind to the world,
but I see the strings of your fate,
woven with loss and love,
a tapestry of bloodlines tangled,
the echoes of your choices
whispering through the ages.'

**Oedipus: **
'But what of my pride?
Is it not my shield against the world?
Must I strip it away,
expose myself to the rawness of existence?
Would you have me stand naked
before the truth,
my armor shattered,
my heart laid bare? '

**Tiresias: **
'To embrace the truth is not to be weak,
but to find strength in vulnerability.
Look within,
not beyond,
for the true blindness lies in the refusal
to acknowledge the shadows
that dance behind your throne.
It is in this surrender,
this relinquishing of the self,
that you may find the vision
that eludes you still.'

**Oedipus: **
'Then what remains for a fallen king?
What hope can flourish
in the soil of despair?
If my eyes are forever clouded,
and my heart is a vessel of regret,
what is left for me
but to wander the night,
lost among the stars
that once guided my path? '

**Tiresias: **
'Hope is the ember that flickers in the dark,
an invitation to rise from the ashes of your making.
Embrace the blindness that grants you clarity,
for there is wisdom in surrender,
and strength in knowing
that even in darkness,
the heart beats,
and the soul sings.
You are both sight and blindness,
the king and the outcast,
the seeker and the found.
Dare to walk the path of shadows,
for in their depths,
you may yet discover
the light that burns eternal.'

And so, in the virtual embrace of their dialogue,
the king and the seer,
sight and blindness,
dance the age-old waltz of fate,
echoing through the chambers of time,
a reminder that truth and illusion
are but two sides of the same