the eye

a cup half-full of tears

waltzes with light

like the sea’s horizon come sunset

stones know not why they tumble

birds why they take flight under the firmament

nor can we tell the times

of emotions tides

as the waters of emotion settle

and the froth of struggle attains an invisible fineness

the speck in the eye is no longer blinding

i see for the first time

the beauty of the Sun and Moon mirrored in me

but like words drawn in water

such clarity isn’t everlasting

sooner or later

we’re tripping on vines again

us travellers in bepeddled boots

need a place to lay our heavy heads

sobbing is the same in every language

more or less

yet we won’t take heed of that wailing

until the soldier’s eyelids overflow in grief