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Your Eyes
They see and they seize, clear windows to the soul
Your eyes are infinite pools of deepening,
dark sides of unseen moons orbiting me,
mine are thin ice.
Seeing yours, I slip and fall,
leave this world’s gravity and plummet into you.
In turn, you reach, womb-handed, strong
and pull me high,
fingers roots around the stone I am.
I cannot feel my own feet, only yours,
eye level, unmoving,
creating ground everywhere.
Your feet, I think, create the world,
your walking makes the path,
and when you cut me in two with a single glance
it is the universe instead that seems the scar.
No blessed vision of light, no offered hand
to squeeze whiter than mine could relieve me,
only the treasure of being with you.
Who cares what the end or beginning might be
when the flower of your fullness is upon me?
What need is there to measure
when the earth reveals its splendor
in the fragrance of the Giver
having given me pure wonder?
The sky is always open, the sea…
