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Elfyda Greenwood Poem
The spark in your eyes,
It draws my being in,
Left me mesmerized,
By the depth within.
The spark in your eyes,
They make your eyes glow,
They make your irises look nice,
But perhaps you’ll never know.
The spark in your eyes,
Are like a single candle’s flame.
The fire dances in that paradise,
Amidst the world’s pouring rain.
The sparks in your eyes,
I look at it with glee,
But then I realized,
The sparks were never me.
Copyright © Elfyda Greenwood | Year Posted 2024
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Details |
Elfyda Greenwood Poem
Before you I stand, just as I am,
Your gaze bore steeply within my soul.
From within your sight, my consciousness stems,
Beneath the brokenness of a gaping hole.
Our eyes are windows, so in your pupil I found
Words unspoken, yet said aloud.
The depth of soul cannot help but astound,
Faded only by your inner cloud.
I gazed and gazed, and still could not find,
The truth about who you are.
Am I looking too close, mesmerized by the details in your eyes,
or shall I search deeper within your heart?
I sought your visage to find answers,
To a question I do not know how to ask.
Will my seeking become a futile curse,
Since your eyes are hidden by an invisible mask?
Alas, I asked the dreaded question,
"Who are you that I see?"
You replied with no little hesitation,
"Well, who are you to me?"
Indeed our eyes are windows like they all say,
Yet you see your reflection in its glass the more you look.
So the images that I saw within that lay,
Were they images of myself that I mistook?
When I asked you who you are,
Am I really asking who I am?
Is looking at you a reflection of myself from afar,
Am I the answer, or am I the problem?
The name you told me of yourself,
Was it your name, or what you're known by?
The name that I knew for myself,
Was it my name, or simply an elaborate lie?
How I view you perhaps reveals more
About myself than it does about you.
For you are yourself in your inmost core,
But outside, we are known by what we do.
Do I see you as you come to be,
Or simply the way I want to?
Is this you, or is this me that I see,
What's false, what's true?
If my hand reaches out to you right now,
Would you become disappear as an ideal I made in my mind?
If I asked you to show me how,
Perhaps the answer I shall never find?
Gaze, o muse, into my eyes so deep,
Do you see the vision that I create?
Alas, o muse, put yourself to sleep,
For perhaps, you know yourself better than if awake.
We may know more about ourselves if we try,
Within each other than on our own.
We can't see our own eyes,
But we shall see each other's alone.
Copyright © Elfyda Greenwood | Year Posted 2024
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