Children and their eyes.

Children, beautiful children who with their eyes alone can tell you a whole story. I was up at Birubi beach at my sister Nancy’s holiday house with her son Frank, his wife Anna and their five children. Little Michael is a beautiful boy with shiny
black eyes, between the longest eyelashes you will ever see on a boy and a twinkle in his eyes even when he is sad. Michael was down on the lawn playing and we were up on the balcony when Frank said.

‘Look at Michael’s eyes when he tells a lie.’ He then proceeded to set the boy up with the knowledge that the little black headed boy would have to lie and give himself away. When Michael fell into that trap and lied his eyes twinkled and started dancing and flashed as his eyelashes flickered.

On the way home while I was driving, it was raining and every time the wipers passed across the windscreen, Michael’s flickering lying eyes would flash up on the clear glass and then disappear in raindrops. Words began to form inside my head and
by the time I got home a collection of words were scribbled on my brain


Of all the seeds God has planted,

the greatest of all we take for granted.

Yet we need to be reminded

how we can really see yet remain so blinded.

The gift of sight, playing such an important role,

Eyes! The gateway of the pathway leading to the soul.

You can try to close off the world to these eyes,

But to the world, they can tell no lies.

Hazel, black, brown or blue

They have their own soul and are a part of you too.

Each in their own world living not so far apart

The gateway of the pathway also leading to the heart.

Suddenly as the heart begins to think,

Left or right … an involuntary wink.

Rarely superfluous and always succinct.

Looking so intensely profound in a vacant stare,

Emotion and passion you can see in there … everywhere.

They cannot but openly reveal

all of the things a little boy thinks and feels.

They can see all but cannot hear.

They can turn to laughter or shed a tear.

They can beat a retreat in fear and turn white,

They can be shut tight and turn day into night.

Decorated, tainted, painted in trends of fashion,

from an abyss they have pain and passion.

Have you ever looked into a child’s eyes?

Yes, really looked into a little boy’s eyes?

and seen in there that little boy who is so alive?

No matter if he is playing, running, laughing, walking,

His eyes are so alive they never stop talking.

Watch them when he is telling lies,

he cannot disguise the truth in his eyes.

He fills them with belief and starts to fantasise

It is quite O.K. for a boy to fantasise

about what he thinks and what he does feel,

but he has to be ever so careful that his fantasy

does not overcome him and become real

How immense and how so very intense,

filled with an aloofness of youthfulness,

A look, a stare, a sideways glance

and how they sparkle when he does a dance.

Never looking straight at you when he has wet his pants.

His face in a frown always looking down.

They can cry, lie, sigh, be on fire with desire,

Searching for things higher and higher.

Propose, impose, expose, disclose, even suppose,

They age with care as slowly he begins to plod,

They can look into their own soul and there see God.

Down the pathway of years, sometimes bathing in tears,

Filled with joy and even fears,

Auspicious, suspicious, delicious, capable of disdain

Happy in love but also sometimes saddened in pain.

and as poignant as a commandment.

Oh how they twinkle like a myriad stars

But some reveal pain that hide the scars.

Quick as a flash they can spot an error,

They can feel pain again – eyes of terror.

Blinded by love and in pain when the heart is broken ~

saying all but never spoken.

These are times where you need not a spoken word

So full of knowledge but never heard

Breaking my heart is acceptable

but stepping on it really hurts as they glare a curse.

Closed from the day of birth ~ opening to the wonders of Earth.

The first step on the pathway of life’s journey they begin.

While the whole world outside is looking in.

and there is something of which I have no doubt,

The whole world of that child is looking out.

I say a pray of thanks to God

For the most wonderful thing He has given me,

My eyes do not have to be open for me to see,

and from where a beautiful mother sits,

She sighs and rubs her eyes and whispers

“How I love you to bits.”

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