His Eyes

His Eyes3

His eyes

I look into his eyes every day

these days I only notice his age

the droopy lids, the red lines

how very tired he looks


But as I look deeper

I see a glimmer of the little boy

the fun-loving, happy boy of his youth


Adulthood and responsibilities have

taken their toll on the boy

and yet he yearns to play


The boy is in them

smiling back at me from time to time

as though from behind a sheet of glass


The child is gone

from the rest of his body

yet he is alive and well behind his eyes

in his heart and in his mind


I focus on the orange spots

in his right eye and wonder

why I never noticed them before

before she noticed them

before she pointed them out

she always noticed things like that

the little things that made him, Him



His eyes tell the story of his failure

his triumph, his joy, his love and his loss


Window to his soul?

I guess so, but…..

His soul is scared

and yet as souls should be

it is resilient and will prevail

he is happy in general

and his eyes show it


They tell the story of his life

when I take the time to look deep enough

to hear the tales they tell


The boy he was, the young man he became,

the man his is today and the man

he will ultimately become


His eyes define him

until the day they go dark and

rest for the last time


They are the eyes of his father

of his grandfather

and of his sons

they are HIS eyes


They are my eyes

for He, is Me

and I am He






13 thoughts on “His Eyes

  1. So much is said through the eyes. And through poetry… for in your poetry, I’ve seen more than just a glimmer of a fun-loving, playful guy :).

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It is amazing how we can look into our lovers eye and see right into her soul, and yet when we look into our own, all we see is our past.

    And beer.

    Poignant write, my friend. It seems like an introspective weekend all around. Must be a full moon.


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