Eyes

There is a storm brewing.

Black, ominous clouds are colliding and they're waiting.

They want to tear the world apart and shower the rubble with razor-sharp lightning bolts and heavy raindrops.

It's happening in your eyes.

Those calm, pellucid hazel eyes that I've alway derived such a sense of well-being from are now turning anger-stricken with a hint of desperation.

The clarity is going away and being replaced by a ferocious sheen and all of this... is because I told you that youy can't come home.

See, it rips me apart inside each time I have to remind you of what's happened and its consequence like those storm clouds bursting into the foreground of your eyes tear at the ground with your tears.

It's because I don't wanna hurt you.

But sometimes, what's best for us doen't show its true colors.

It decides to test our faith in the old adage which says that everything will work out in the end.

And I'm sad to say that, right now, yours, and mine, and eveybody else's faith is being tested, and I don't think that everyone's is holding up.

Ya gotta know, though, that my faith in your eventual homecoming knows no bounds.

It soars high in that menacing sky awaiting the inevitable payoff of its persistence.

But I'd be lying if I told you that the wings upon which it flies aren't feeling a bit weighted.

Nonetheless, when I see those tears flowing from your eyes like the waters from the newly-opened floodgates, I fell the need to retain them

As if the absense of their stains on the ground will deny their reality,

I cup my hands and try to catch them, and all of the sudden, I understand all of those poetic metaphors of tears burning holes in skin.

And as I see that overflow hitting the ground, I long for the antedeluvian times.

The acidic burn that those tears create makes me rack every still-rational brain cell in a feeble attempt to turn back time--

To revert your eyes to their once peaceful state--

But all that comes out is "I love you."

It doesn't work, and I'm not sure if you even believe me when I use that three-word mantra anymore, but... it isn't gonna stop.

See, you need to know that I have the utmost confidence in you and that my faith, wile still weighted, will continue to soar.

And it'll keep on soaring, up there in blackened skies which are only temporarily lit up by momentary bursts of lightning, until things are better.

But it isn't my faith's flight which matters right now.

It's your's

My only hope is that your faith doesn't continue its downward spiral into the remnants of what was once a peaceful place.--

My only hope is that your faith will pull itself out of that collision course and reset its path upward.--

My only hope is that your faith can continue to bravely soar through those frightening skies until these periodic storms end, and your life is restored.--

My only hope is that your faith will fly.