Poem - Eyes

Eyes

The pupils are the windows to the soul.

When you look into my eyes, what do you see?
You see two iris', (hazel) You see two pupils; darkness, blackness, no light.
You are seeing the actual optic nerves of my brain, cloaked in shadow.
You see me looking at you.
If I were there, If I were real to you, I would be
mirroring back to you what I see in you with my expression.

Without another "I am" you can't truly see who you are.

The world reflects things. A flat mirror shows your outside form.
The soul in my eyes is a reflection of you.
Shows you how you animate/energize others with who you are.

I want to share the October-chilled world with you,
and see myself and our world in your eyes.
I want to see the light, the fire of life, the anime of you, in your eyes.

Empathy is mirror neurons...mirroring feelings and experience back out,
and reading the mirror neurons responses in other's eyes.
It's a dance.
Who are you? Who am I? As we dance we discover the answer...

Look into the eye of G_od and see the moment of creation,
the emptiness that Was before He had We.

~ Me

Love Poem

A Poem

Love is the only thing that is created from no-thing.
There fore Love expands the universe.
The opposite of Love is fear; there fore fear shrinks it.
And that is what Love is There Fore.

Fore ward is expansion, but also creation.
In the beginning was the Word, and the word was Good.
And The Good was Love.
(And Love is Good.)
We nick-named it G_od a long time ago...

~Me, because I Am

Calendar Poem, TIME

A New Year.
A new Day.
A new Resolve.
A new Way.

A new Understanding,
Of an old Time.
An Old understanding
Of new a new Rhyme.

A new Poem,
An old Quote,
New Acquaintance,
Life felt, emotion wrote.

Shared feeling,
Halved pain,
Doubled joy,
Despair slain.

Rhythms repeat,
Mirror life's heart beat.
Material formed resonates,
The language of incarnation vibrates.

In the cycle of eternity
Recycled modernity,
Spend your life with me,
The best is yet to be.

In dreams we fly,
Above the snow.
Above the clouds,
The Son will know.

The Sun, gone three days
Rose up above the shadows.
These thoughts drawn by these words,
As mist above the meadows.