To take these eyes of mine, growing more blurred and teasing shadows of floaters, to walk the mountain and lake's path, a broken bottle whispered to my heart that my eyes did not see. Using the camera to see, the image of tiny twigs reflected in the glass mirrored my sight. Sitting I pondered the image, blurred yet somehow distinct.
As the calming warmed my heart, I realized the whisper was not a voice but the eyes of the heart. Unconditioned by language, beliefs, labels or perceptions, knowing only unconditional Love, tis only the eyes of the Heart that truly see. The timeless, perfect eyes of the Heart were the whisper. And as I left the image of glass, earth and reflection, I pondered the thread of abiding in the Heart and the Eyes of Clarity, Vision and Infinity. To abide in the Site of Sight. SOS. Not a call of distress. A Being. A call of de-stress. The Site of Sight. Abiding in the Heart to see through the Eyes of Love.
"Her eyes are homes of silent prayers" ~ Alfred Tennyson