Eyes of a Child

I looked in a mirror one soggy day,
As if to peer through a soft waning storm,
And hoping my shape would fly far away,
In release from this tempestuous form.
I barely caught it before it passed,
Just a faint glimmer, from eyes I’d thought dead,
That had long since forgotten the summer sky,
Or the soft grass on which we made our bed.
Those eyes used to sparkle beneath the stars,
Crackle and burn with the weight of the moon;
Their luster was lost behind time’s cold bars,
And forever now lost and out of tune.
And I’d trade it all for but one more day,
The eyes of a child to light my way

Don't Be Silent

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