God’s Eyes

Ravaged and broken body no muscle left to flex and tall tales condemned to silence, by undone, struck dumb, muted, tongue.

But I had the strangest feeling as I met his bright blue gaze; there was something in the eyes of this crippled mute man that could set the world a blaze. 

They say he’d had the gift of blarney and a straight and sober gait, until the brutal yoke of blood choked stroke settled on his fate. And left him all bereft of dancing feet which would no longer stroll, and made him over pay the piper, as his rich voice it stole.

But then his big blue mysterious mystic eyes, they took to talking, in the language of the heart! Singing hallelujah’s about a brand new start. And I had the curious notion, strange as it may be! That when I looked into the eyes of the crippled mute man, I saw God’s eyes, looking back at me. 

But they said his time was soon now, the bugle boy to hear. So I mumbled and stumbled, through some words, about there being maybe nothing much to fear. And his blue-eyed gaze was all at once now, so distant and so near. 

Then the whole-world fell to silence and Yahweh’s winged angel’s, gathered here below. To witness with me the crippled mute man, when he spoke and said, “I Know.” 

You see, I had thought I’d come to comfort the crippled mute man, but now my old heart can see. It was the crippled mute man who came to comfort me. 

In my ravaged and broken body no muscle left to flex and tall tales condemned to silence, by undone, struck dumb, muted, tongue. 

Cormac Stagg 2020