eyes open to see, you,
a fury-mind riding the cheekbones of ancient,
on your chariot face
that has chased down every future’s calling.
yours is the dreamlike stone face,
presenting as waterfall,
ever evaporative is the likes of you secretly ascending.
you, have the awareness as appetite of a cave-mouth,
delicately interpreting the subtle sounds
of entry and departure beyond what breath exhibits.
sunlight yawns, its awakening passage across your face.
what the work of time has done to you
is with invisible tools of wisdom, crafting.
history to me, has no story to tell
other than the being of you now presenting.
I look up at these features,
for what renders, as yourself to me,
against a sky-set, tall and majestic.
in my mind that registers as monumental
as you are timelessly imposing.
all of this has happen to me
within the first deep breath of our meeting.
past life remembrances flooded over me then scurried.
and now this patch quilt of my memories,
seeks to have me understanding,
as you have instantaneously become the lay of the land.
I come into this gift-given with only response potential.
nothing I could say would account for the input
so far that I have impact-fully received.
once again I return to my river of experience.
with eyes open to see
for what currents that attend to me there,
as they give me formal deeply seeded impressions
but not the story in full envelopment.
later, I will walk with what is lingering’s feel.
and they, they then will consort to say,
who you are to me as me to you,
in this, there is potent passage
with open eyes to see
from those first moments
as they were passing through me . . .