Eyes

Every memory grants the lensing of its eyes
Near drowning at five makes a novelty set of glasses
I can wear a bubbling filter, apply it to all of my life
This one even grants its lungs' grasping as it darkens

Small decisions can sometimes awaken the seen
And breaths not-breathed
Like deciding left or right could mark death, or life
Or I-found-god-dead-in-the-roses in grocery aisles

So many eyes, like ones of first loves and security
Guiding towards the precipitous and role-playing safety
Seeing an unshakable resolve in midsts of the terrible
Being untrodden by the shuffling, mind in its complacency

Unpleased with that, I try find eyes that bore witness to life
-unjudged and full in that emptiness, a deflating mountain
Spreading foothills to coast in defiance, a challenging rise
To other continents.
A moment of cries backing my observations of small birds
Rummaging, bathing and searching for food, like thought, meditation and existential dread wondering why, and I-know-this but, what I don't.
birds see but with what kind of eyes?

Reviews

[Chris]

Smiling here... I remember the first time I saw the Faerie dance... perceptions.

[altIIneo]

Love how it explores how memories and experiences shape our perceptions. Like adopting different lenses. Poignant reflection on our past and present. Really harmonised with me.

[Shownashappening]

I'm glad it harmonized with you.
Thank you for reading and reviewing 🙂

It's crazy to consider just how much of an a(e)ffect our pasts and even anecdotal tellings of others' pasts can shape us; like trying to take an inventory of what came from where and how is a seemingly never ending quest.