In Her Eyes

And in a funny way, there was nothing to say. Nothing that needed words or sound, only her eyes reading mine and knowing beyond any stories. We looked at each other for what felt like a long time, and once again I was filled with a sensation I can only describe as timeless, outside of and beyond self and yet so grounded in our two selves seeing each other.

Is that what we mean when we speak of God, of not praying but being the prayer?

The day to day is busy and full of purpose. We go about ascribing meaning and assigning varying degrees of significance to each and every action, mistaking so many of them as inconsequential, rushing around, always thinking about the next thing, failing to notice or perhaps stopping to notice–the bare November trees that follow the gauges of light and climate, knowing inherently when to die and when to bloom.

I find myself seeking these quiet spaces greedily, and her eyes feed me in this way, contain the vast unspoken world of time before and after and beyond the construct, and we lie there a long while just looking, soaking in it, listening for a breath, a rustle, a bell, a shimmer, iris antidotes to the rebel yell and primal scream to know the unknown, to grasp the unholdable.

To think, the world outside is only a reflection of the worlds within worlds we all carry throughout the days and nights of work and home, kids and errands, groceries and laundry and dishes, emails and projects, worries and tension, stoplights and go lights and pets and passions–inside these is an empty core spacious enough to hold a universe without borders or edges or words and small enough to roll on your palm, in a coat pocket, a coin purse.

Only this exists, a moment of cold air and clear sun, her eyes from afar reminding me to inhale and exhale long, slow breaths. I never saw her coming and every leaving is a heartache wrapped in gratitude. Her eyes shine back the shelter I dreamed my whole waking life, and I long to dive into them, to cry out to the deep sea ocean floor big sky for more.

And so I move–stretch, reach, open–and in the movement learn again how to stay, how to flow to keep the faith, how to remember that the life I want is made possible only by loving the one I already have.

3 thoughts on “In Her Eyes

  1. cathykal says:

    Your posts just fill me up like a cup of my favorite tea on a chilly day. I love love love that you give words to moments, but not to define or teach or contain… but really, to highlight a feeling or connection and to let us all see what you see and share in it. I am grateful for your gift beautiful writer!



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