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 who are given the gift of sight.
To see God's creation; its goodness and its beauty.
To marvel and utter the same words He said, "It's all good."
Amen.
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