Precious are the Eyes

H. W. Bryce

–jotted in the car upon departing from the ophthalmologist’s

Precious are the eyes, the window to the soul,
That read the book of stories that we never told…

But really, I’d rather not look in there just now,
I’d rather look upon the world.
And I prefer to see inside of your soul;
I want to gaze upon your beauty,
And say the love I have but never told.

I want to retain the colours,
I need to hold on to the colours,
I want to see the sparkling water
As it runs between its banks.
I want to see the animals
And watch the birds all fly.
I must memorizes the faces
I must record all our places,
I treasure all the sights
As they all travel by.

I want to see. I want to see.
I want to savour the beauty of every single tree,
I want to bear witness to the panoramic view;
I want to witness life as it marches on to be.
I want to see the healing,
For God did not give us sight
To see and ignore the others’ des’prate plight.

I love to see you dancing,
I throb to see your loving smile,
I crave to see the children laughing,
And I ache to see the eagles fly.
I must see, to read another book;
And for the sparkle in your eye,
I crave another look.

Let me hold you in my eyesight
For as long as long eternity,
For I love you dearly, more dearly
Than all the words can tell,*
And every sight is a joyous inward yell.
Most precious are the eyes we have to see,
Most precious are the views they bring to me.

Precious are the eyes,
The sight that God has given us;
We need to do more than simply trust:
Protect and nourish them, this we must.

Precious are the eyes
That bring the beauty home to me…

Please God let me keep my eyesight
For yet a long, long, long while.

–This is what I read in the eyes of the Alzheimer’s patient
who is in a failing state.

*This line from Roger Whitaker song

CREDITS: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Portrait-of-an-old-man-339181777