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Reflections of The
Eyes
The Eyes,
Floating in an endless
stream of light,
That spreads with hues
of colors,
That sweeps with winds
of changes,
Across the sky blue
drapery,
With puffy cotton sprouting
everywhere,
And the beaming smile,
Glowing magnanimously
over the mountains,
Blowing away the wicked
gleam,
To reveal a mischievous
grin.
The Eyes,
That which amongst God's
gifts most profound,
For is it not what mortals
depend on?
The fortune that seperates
sight from sightless,
To see the blue drowning
away one's thirst,
Or the red and green
feeding's one's body,
Or, more importantly,
the yellow to court a lady,
Rather than the infinite
blackness that shivers,
Where life has no beginning,
no end,
And misfortune is but
a step away.
The Eyes,
Like a window to existence,
With glasses made of
senses,
To perceive God's greatest
creations,
To awaken before the
joyful spring,
And dance away at the
refreshing scenery,
Or to feast before the
sunny summer,
And enjoy life over
bread and butter,
To sleep before a fatigue
autumn,
And rest over a numbing
journey,
Or, to dream before
a frosty winter,
And cast away in endless
poetry.
Alan Chong
© April 1999 |
