The human eye is an amazing thing. it uses a series of camera-like lenses to filter light through the pupil to deliver a message to the retina which then sends those messages to the brain. Now if you have ever played a game of “Telephone” when you were young then you know from experience that this is no small feat. The fact that within our iris’ there are innumerable nerve endings that resemble the makeup of our universe, is just astounding.
What I See.. Behind these hazel eyes of mine is a story, a tale that has never been told to completion, and one that never will, either. What these eyes have seen is both the light and the darkness of the world of which I belong. behind the depths of my pupils lies all the sights that i have seen in my memory. the eyes of the overactive imagination are blurred with the lines of fantasy and reality. We who live in the creative side of the mind see the world in the brightest and the darkest of ways simultaneously. I look out through optics that change from brown to green and everything in between. Even though I see the same world you do, my perspective of it differs from that of 80% of the populace. I see the trees, just as you do. strong and growing, filling a forest. but in the emerald green of their canopy of leaves I see the glowing lights of the fairies that are carrying their seeds to the next place they are needed to be planted. with wings of glittering gossamer, and eyes of crystalline colors. I see the art in the museums, the brush strokes that make the canvas pop. but i also watch that same piece of art move and come to life before my eyes. I watch as the gentle breeze filters through the painted on grass and lifts the blades into the wind. I watch as the house in that same painting comes to life with a farm family going about their day. I dont just think i see it, I feel it, I believe in it. When your eyes take in the surrounding lights on a dimly lit street with only three lamp posts, I am sure that if you have fear, you think of the things that go bump in the night. The reality of those things, robbers, bad people with ill intent, But within the cogworks of the overactive imagination, I can see the glistening fangs of a hungry animal with glutinous yellow eyes, burning with a bloodlust that can not be quenched. I feel the hot breath of some ill intentful person who has a freezing cold and deadly sharp blade placed at my jugular vein. When your lines of fantasy and reality are blurred to the point of non-distinction then you too have the mind, and the eyes, of an overactive imagination.
So look into the eyes, see past them and into the soul. What do you see through your own eyes?