We Have the Same Eyes

Eyes are like mirrors of the soul, it’s said.
But I prefer to think of them as windows,
As windows of antique tinted glass.

Not some sharp and clear transparency
But a hazy, opaque, half-seen or guessed-at truth,
Whose nature and beauty is graced by its imperfections.

The light that shines from you
Is a blue-grey radiance;
Not chilled, but softened by the refraction
Through the frosted screen you present.

The amber ring in your eyes
Is not a halo adorning a saint,
But neither is it the Mark of Cain.
It’s simply an inheritance from your ancestors,
And tells of who you are and whence you came.

Gazing into your eyes, I see the you, within,
Often brazenly challenging me,
But sometimes, cowering in the shadows.

That is when the me that resides in my eyes
Takes your hand and draws you forth,
Into the gold-rimmed, blue-grey light;
The light that we will always share.