His Eyes
I have eyes that could not lie. You can tell if I was not able to sleep the previous night. You can tell if I am sad or otherwise. My eyes are the windows to my soul. Someone would say that the white part of my eyes are so clear. I do not smoke, nor drink or have any vice at all. Upon a midnight return home... I was at the back of the car. We stopped at the intersection, for it was a red light. To my left, I saw a homeless man, standing still. I saw his eyes, I froze, then became a real witness. He has the kindest eyes, I have ever seen in my life. For a moment, that became a paradox on eternity... Literally, I had seen "His Eyes", in his eyes. His eyes were, truly, made unto the Image and Likeness of God. Until now, I am a witness to that splendor. Regardless of who we are; a pauper or a prince. A pagan or a pope, a poet or a politician. Poor or patrician, our eyes never lie. Blessed are we...