Poem: A Mother's Observation

Eyes the color of ocean mist
that pale blue, almost white
impenetrable, implacable
almost clouded but clear
what secrets do you hide
as you look at me,
my child?


An old soul in a young body
You look at things
in new and exciting ways
trace patterns forgotten
recombine them to fit
whatever you see now.


The past buried deeply
in the realm of dreams
mirrored in the hues
of the waking world.
You know the impossible
yet seek the improbable.


Where does this wonder come from?
And how can you keep it
from going dim as your vision seeks
more from this harsh reality?
For now your eyes can see
what can be made true.