Eyes that see

sometimes

I seems like I have very small eyes

I remember as a child that green chalkboard

looming large and dark in the front of the classroom

while my teacher

chalk in hand

scribbled things that looked like nothing more

than vague white lines

waving their slow way across the empty expanse

then one day

with spectacles propped

on my then button nose

I looked to that same board and saw

miracle

letters and numbers galore

 

I remember going home and looking 

upon the familiar juniper laden hills behind my home

and seeing, for the first time

from afar

fences, and rocks

and yes

trees

 

clarity

 

perhaps I need a new set of glasses

perhaps at my age I need trifocals

to bring into crisper image

those things I cannot see

 

I see vaguely

this world

and what is see is confusing

and often dark and frightening

I see the hate and fear

I see emptiness where,

in my minds eye love and companionship should be

 

I walk through life stumbling and falling

groping blindly

and missing

miracles

 

God

give me eyes that see

 

everything