13/04/2025
Reflected in Her Eyes
He sings and the air trembles,
not in fear, but in recognition.
A voice rises, greets the day,
in the chill before dawn,
as time itself begins to pray.
He brings forth a melody,
Of a love, once met.
And we recall a woman's eyes.
A place where heaven dwells.
Twin pools of shadow and light.
His voice moves your very soul,
like water moves over stone.
A soft, transforming motion.
As a flowing river knows,
it belongs to the ocean.
A mystery weaves through starlight,
from the silence between worlds.
It rides on the breath untouched.
A melody paints a masterpiece,
as if God Himself is holding the brush.
His song offers a sacred prayer,
that does not ask, but simply is.
A perfect sacred gift. Like light, it shifts,
Reflected in the eyes of beauty,
where divinity chooses to live.
And when the last note falls silent,
the song remains. An echo in the wind.
It lingers in the bones of the earth,
shimmers like silver on water,
and casts a holy light upon the path.
This is not his song, nobody can own it.
It speaks of something much older,
born between heartbeats, soft and slow,
where love first learned to see itself.
The world is hushed, as if it knows.
Lisa Goodwin
