To My Eyes

 

To my eyes:

of what's real, and yet as well might not be seen as true - my world is not as it appears to be. I hold many things as true and very little meets the standard of reality. To my eyes, the sky is blue, it's a never challenged certainty - but air itself is just transparent, an allowing space for the dance of sunlight. I see only what my eyes can comprehend. I see a truth in place of reality, both existing at once, and only one remains in the absence of my seeing. 

to my eyes the world is true.

that somethings are solid to my touch, hold a certain color, and exist for some particular purpose - I believe the world has meaning. This is true for me, my senses trust the world, navigate by sight, sound and feel. But again, this is my translation of reality, that I touch keyboards as I type instead of particles vibrating to space beneath my fingers. I'm typing reality on the truth of keyboards. Both are present and both allow me to assign meaning where it didn't exist before. 

to my eyes, it's a magical world.

how somethings appear, light dancing itself to blue, the life and reach of a tree contained within a seedling, myself in full awareness - what's true and real is always mystery. To my eyes it all comes as grace, from reality to a truth that I'm allowed to hold for a certain length of time. I take none of this for granted, humbled that my own form is too a temporary dance of light. I value my truth and live in awe to all that's real. 

to my eyes - it's all one thing. 

~

Peace, Eric