Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Humility in the Third Eye

I feel tears…welling up in my eye…my third eye that is
The one that I opt to not reveal to the world
So it can never be seen and it never sees…
But right now none of that matters because my vision is blurred
Yet I’m starting to see things for what they truly are
Cant help but contemplate…
What the sighted eye can not see and what the blind and blurred can
This third eye
Is really the window to my soul
Its somewhere between my hair follicle and my toes
No one really knows
because I try not to cry
I call it being strong, but you see humanity in my third eye
Its a sucker for my emotions so you can tell when Im happy too
When Im envious it gets green, like those of E. Badu
But one of these days...
I'll be strong enough to allow the third eye to see
Until then...
I guess Im incomplete

2 comments:

Don said...

Nice.

This prose reminds me of a poem I once wrote entitled Third Eye. It's imperial that everyone learn to view life from a third eye POV.

"Crayola" said...

Thanks my dear!