A Soul

2020-04-10T14:41:00.000-07:00

We all have eyes. Every human does, but some work better than others, or for some, not at all. But this trait is individual, different for everybody.

My father’s eyes have a golden tinge, lighting up his face whenever he smiles or laughs. His eyes are warm, inviting, and always has a twinge of playfulness in them. But they are solid, and support me. They change colors, from a darker brown hue to a golden, amber light.

My mother’s eyes are a chocolate brown. It is not the soft, melted chocolate that slips through your fingers, but is the hard and tough shell of frozen chocolate. While it can be brittle and harsh, there is a sweetness and loving care that only a mother could express to her own children. Her eyes are piercing yet gentle, firm yet soft. She is a paradox.

My little brother’s eyes are like the brown of a bear’s fur. They can become angry, filled with tears, or hidden beneath his beaming smile. There is the hint of mischievousness that sets you on edge, wondering what joke he has in store for you. But they can be full of love and of kindness, soft and calming.

My eyes are caramel, changing from light to dark, and back again. They can be dreamy and unfocused, watching the hidden world underneath. Other times, they are quick, taking in every detail with piercing gazes, darkened in focus.

People say eyes are the doors to the soul, a portal into what is hidden behind the mask of the face. Where do your eyes lead? Is it a long climb, or are you transparent? Who are you?

March, 2018

Small Worlds

A Soul