By Dennis Edwards
New Journal and Guide
If you look deeply enough you can see varying shades, at what appear to be different levels. Both are framed in a pristine white, the brightness of which almost causes these pools of light and dark brown to glow. Hypnotic is not too strong a way to describe them. But the word doesn’t really capture their warmth and grace.
They reflect an intra color rainbow of sorts. In almost the same moment, you can see the soft brown presence of love; the light red tinge of skepticism overridden by a darker brown hint of vulnerability. They make a smile an adventure, a frown an inviting mystery, and surprise a total delight.
It’s probably unwise to stare into them very long. You can get lost. I did. Took more than a minute to regain my concentration. A most inconvenient thing to happen while they innocently and gently search my face for some sense as to why I lost my trend of thought. Combine them with a smile that’s “like coming home” and a soul just wants to stay somewhere in there.
Once they caught me deep in thought. I could feel them over my shoulder. When I turned, there they were, nestled in a lovely soul whose smile made everything more than all right. To be sure I cannot make any claims. These eyes, these deep pools of amber, are not mine to have and to hold. But they do pass my way on occasion, and I am all the better for the passing.
You’ll probably agree these are not the eyes of a poker player. They conceal nothing. Where they are is where they take you. The sheer honesty in them is overwhelming. There are no attempts to hide joy, uncertainty, embarrassment and a touch of insecurity.
To be sure, these amber pools are their own kind of peril. A warning sign would be appropriate. Something like “swim at your own risk,” “trespassers may never want to leave.” Truth is, I’d like to watch from the inside out as the amber sways and shifts, lightens and darkens with joy and sorrow, challenge and uncertainty and all of life’s moods and moments.
Was it Shakespeare, or DaVinci who said eyes are “the window to the soul”? But when it comes to women, I am convinced they are more than that. In them, Black or brown, blue or hazel, green or grey, I think we peek into a wellspring of eternity. They bring definition to our souls, inspire greatness where once only mediocrity was sufficient.
The truth is most of us men would probably be happy living in what pretty much amounts to a well-equipped cave. As long as there’s work, cable, the Internet, the NFL, NBA and Baseball we’re fine. Oh yes, food is good, too.
But once we drift by multi-color pools like these, we are inspired, compelled to do what none have done before. Maybe, when we look inside, we see ourselves the way they do. We are transformed by eyes that love who we are and see what we can become.
Who knows what challenges you face, how unfair life and living are to you and yours or how difficult are the days of growing older. Look often into her eyes and maybe you’ll see a different view of yourself. An image that resurrects passion, joy and promise in a spirit beaten down by life and living.
After all, they’re your eyes, too. Didn’t the preacher give them to you to have and to hold from this day forward? Well, you do just that. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll show you her view of the man of her dreams and you can go out and make him come true.
Dennis Edwards is an Emmy Award winning Television Investigative Journalist.He is a graduate of Suffolk High School, Virginia Union University and it’s Samuel Proctor School of Theology. Email him at email@example.com.