“One of the deepest longings of the human soul is to be seen.” ~ John O’Donohue
Look at me.
You already have you say….
a hundred times you say….
Then tell me,
what color do my eyes turn when I am sad,
when I am angry?
Does the rising color in my cheeks offend you?
Can you see me?
Can I matter?
Or like marching ants along a sidewalk
will you step over me…
with nothing to hold your interest
nothing stirring you to look once,
A mere chain of identical segments
but not a single one with a name.
Nobody you recognize.
look at me.
at the woman, not an 8 x 10 flat photo dusted once a week.
Not the girl in your minds eye that you were introduced to long ago in a noisy room,
who filled a checklist of necessary qualifications so efficiently
that no further research was required.
You never invited me to swim into the deep end with you,
floating in the shallow was sufficient
and there were many other interests to be explored
and machinations to tinker with that were more intriguing than
see into me…
and let me look back
long and unguarded.
Let me drink my fill
I have been thirsty for so long…
Let me blow a kiss,
like a dandelion wish,
floating across our shared breath and we could inhale together;
that first taste of possibilities,
that subtle perfume of nascent trust.
sun full on my face and hair unpinned and windwild
nothing standing between your eyes and mine.
but I will hold very still and give you time to pause and perhaps
stay a while.