There's something in her soft eyes,
A simple drawing of a world passes
pleasing and delightful textures
that I find, I bear and wear
Till interwoven it seems at times
these thoughts dress the same
cross the boundaries of what we perceive
and awakens in the silence
a most profound, illuminating ideal
which on its own would merely be a concept
a vitalized aphorism of thought
Projected before simple eyes
This notion of what we call love.

Yet! So heavy it becomes that
the Suns rays hold no charm, really no deliberate light
Save that from which source and reflection
stems from her eyes,
There's a difference between thought and being
for one is a dream that fades like a fairy tale
unobtainable, lost upon its own reflection
till soon it vanishes with the storm.
Ah! I know that the other tis real
Grasps hold so strongly, fills complete
the very fragment of ones being
Strange and stranger as it may be
these eyes glimmer past and through
every melody that I find therein beats
To the meaning of you.

We all are seekers, dreamers to
that under garment of life
sweeping the pages of our hearts and minds
cleansing the ground for love,
Few so few really hold its essence
see the deliberate light of being
reflect and dance on through
and holds love that sacred key
that unlocks the world
And there sets us all free.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph