What do I see behind these eyes,
enrapt in living’s echoed timber?
What source in strength of spirit, I,
that burns the questions from mere ember?
What of these eyes that come to me,
in passing daily actions bent
to find their own known mal-affection
that from their living purpose rent?
See do they? See do I?
or do we think we see?
When yet our soul’s sweet purpose rings
Unknown to me each presence.
Unknown, the purpose each heart seeks.
Unknown, each soul’s sweet resilience.
Unknown, each journey’s triumphed peaks.
Yet to their eyes I look each day
and try to bring approval,
or maybe just a passing smile
for souls behind each pair’s perusal.
I feel the great connection,
the fabric spun from God in life,
in which we bend reflections to
the solving of each other’s strife.
I know sincere inflections stand
in spirit, soul, and human hand.
I know we blend to form the truth
of what is truth, of what we can.
Here now my day light passes,
that from my walking presence lay
a spirit down to sleep in me,
and through my lips in conscious pray,
“Blessed I am through kindness given
and that which I return.
Thankful, as I am in living
for what’s been granted, and what’s been learned.”