Eye in the Wood

This eye in the wood on the window sill,

Tells a long story,

Of growth, adventure & rest.

Now it looks out from its temporary spot.

Taking in the room, and everything outside of it.

So much has it seen,

So much will it see,

There’s wisdom in its pupil,

Can it even see me?

Resin covers its dark depths,

Are those tears?

For what it’s seen, what it sees,

And for who it longs for from the years.

It absorbs the raindrops on the window,

Absorbs its new tenants.

Has observed the passing of horses.

Of time.

It takes it all in.

Everything reduces to primary form in its blackness.

It recognises it all.

It knows it is that.

Waiting patiently to be reunited with itself.

The time will come.

It’s already happened and is happening still.

All ends in the eye in the wood on the window sill.

TF