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.