Eyes of the Body, Eyes of the Soul

Eyes! Eyes! The two of them, Like guards, at the body's helm, Like lovers, pining to meet, Held back by the neb's bridge. They’ve seen the light and the dark, The shine, the grandeur and the stark. The lass, the beauty and the beast, The war, the mayhem and the peace. Conduits to the world outside, Pieces of the vision, they capture, In small blobs of color they divide, To print them on the canvas of the brain. See, they do. But do they see? Their unsung twins, hiding, Unseen, in the voids of the soul. Seen only by the metaphysical, Abstract notions of the mind. They don’t see the light or the dark, Or the ear-splitting thunder's spark, Or the black or the white, Or the babe's coos of delight. See, they do. But do they see? Yes! They do see, That forced smile, out of place, Unaligned with the contours of the face, The sheen of a saint's heart, Or the innuendo of a helpless tart, The pain behind a beggar's cry, Or the spirit in an athlete’s try, The hate in a killer's eyes, Or the integrity of a gamblers dice. Eyes of the body, eyes of the soul. See, they do. But will they see, eye to eye, yes - eye to eye! For one can see a man dying thirsty, In the stretch of the ocean’s infinity. And the other can see a man dying lonely, in a sea of crowd, slowly!