Meeting Your Gaze

The simplest thing—
peering into a pair of eyes—
yet nothing less than the
whole world held there
in a moment, dancing
through a mote of light.

I cannot hope to know
what led those eyes to me,
or take on the way they see
any more than a heart
can sense what guides
its pulsing walls.

There is no thing so right
as how the eye proves wrong
both scientists and saints:
the eye just sees, as poor
as well, resealing self
in every optic cell.

Unflash, a trailing thought
can blink its glassy glow:
I find your gaze anew,
here at the front where
memory lost its tattered
curse and we relent.

We simply are, simply see,
whatever that might be:
touching only through
the obliquest, raking
path of photons cooked
in astral cauldrons.

Assailing no more, the soul
takes flight and now may find
itself free, completely you
and fully me: for a meeting
is simply nothing more
than preparing to pass by.

You'll only receive email when Integrated Change publishes a new post

More from Integrated Change