The Eyes of Love – A Poem

By Adam J. Pearson

To the eyes of love, the old and dying world looks new,
Fresh, alive, awash with light that glows.
Through love’s lithe lenses, the land of falsity looks true,
Beauteous, radiant, softened by hues of rose.

A heart touched by love
Is resurrected like Lazaraus;
But a moment ago,
It was like a corpse,
Cocooned in a coma,
Dead, asleep, lost–
But seconds later,
It pulses with life,
It gasps like a man underwater
When suddenly,
He explodes out of the waves
And his lungs first fill with clean fresh air.
Shocked, he finds himself alive,
Only suddenly seeing
How dead he was before.

When the eyes of love alight on their beloved,
Like butterflies upon soft petals,
Magic rouses into action,
Drifting, she appears
As if golden and glowing,
Cloaked in wonder,
Coated in light.

Everyone else fades into the background,
But that fair one stands out–
In truth,
It is as if she
And she alone exists;
Her every look entrances,
Her every touch is magic,
Her every word is the word of angels,
And the oracle of gods.

A room without her in it
Is just a room,
But when she walks in,
Colours grow brighter,
Sharper, lighter,
Pulsing, clearer, more intense–
The heart speeds up
Like a sprinter in a hundred meter dash,
The breath comes harder
Like the breath of the runner
And sounds are louder
And aromas more pleasing
And sights more sharp
And everything crescendos–
The whole vast universe arises
Like a giant, perfect wave
And riding its crest,
She, the one beloved.

So it is, to be gripped by the hands of love,
So it is, to hear the subtle song
That only lovers hear
And only lovers understand.

To everyone else, they seem bewitched
Those lovers drunk on the wine of love,
Like fools entranced,
Caught up in magic and wonder,
And that they are–
But the nonsense of lovers
Is perfect sense to them.
And the chaos of lovers
Is order clear and true.
They say nothing,
But hear a million words,
Sit still,
But their hearts soar up high and new.

Some say the eyes of love
See false,
Distorted,
Only what they want and yearn to see.
But those who say such things
Speak only from outside of love,
Not from its heart.

The view from inside
Is like an artist’s masterpiece
Ten million colours, it contains,
And depth upon depth forever–
And within this wondrous land,
This landscape of love and liberty,
A truth is seen that cannot be spoken,
Something sacred is touched
And touches,
A truth grows up within
And shines and shines
Like brilliant stars in the void of space;
To lovers it is crystal clear–

Somehow it flows
And breathes
And speaks
Through them,
Though they do nothing
But surrender,
Let go,
Give in,
And gently,
They are carried away
By the wave.

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