Apperception

I have come to realize, real-in-my-eyes, that these eyes that only half see - yet see through blind walls just as easily as a breeze sees itself in a trembling leaf. Eyelashes together the fine hairs of apperception. I real-eyes my happiness. Happy are the hapless - metaphorical hat brims pulled low over smiling eyes. This realness in my eyes, not perception, not a fraction, or factual seeing, but this being in the happiness, a mind-view of a world made new just for a moment, and then, later another, and there will be more. Happiness bubbles up in the eye, in the stillness of the moment that looks at it.