Thursday, August 21, 2008

his eyes

his eyes are a mirror but what does he see

so much more than i see in me

he sees a young girl laughing and fun

a shiny new pearl, where i see none

a life full of potential dreams unfullfilled

where i see the torrential streams yet untilled

but will he still see me this way as we go

or will he grow tired as we both grow slow?

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greetings! i have managed to incorporate my eternal woodstock nation spirit with the high tech 21st century world. i am an artist/writer, who dabbles in rhyme, and, sometimes, reason. my passions are my husband, who is truly the wind that ruffles my sails, animals rights, yoga...waking up in the morning. i find inspiration in too many things to list, and far too many more to remember. sketching, watercolor painting,poetry and photography are my ways of expressing joy and gratitude. from living with a chronic illness, i have learned the beauty of each day, and treat each as another sun salutation, and another chance.