Cold Eyes Poem by Jan Jarnigan

You have eyes of glass and stone, I think.
Seeing, not like others do.
Why do you look at me that way? Looking,
gazing, staring but not seeing.
What do those windows of your soul project?
Perhaps a loss of something indefinable.
The glimmer of light is not there. The shades
are pulled down, as becoming as
the framing face may be.

Look and see. Look, seek, experience life.
May divine nature spring forth
out of your house of flesh,
melting the stony orbs
and silica glass into molten beauty
of soul and character
transformed by love.