Behind my
eyes
Bert Haverkate-Ens
When I was a child
and I had just lived
a nearly perfect day,
I didn’t want to go to bed
because I didn’t understand
that tomorrow would be another day.
Now that I have grown up
a little, I finally welcome sleep
at the end of such nearly perfect days
because I realize that tomorrow
will come soon
and I will be refreshed to live it all over again.
And yet there was a moment last night
behind my laughing eyes
when I was sitting in your living room –
I will not tell you of all the beautiful faces
that I saw –
and I wept a little when no children
where looking because I knew that they
are more right about tomorrow than I am.
Those burnt orange walls –
only just those walls –
will never be exactly in this light
ever again as they were
in that very nearly perfect moment.
The light from Maya’s eyes,
and his and hers,
will change even the color of the walls.
Of course she will not notice that
for many years.
And then we all smiled
and we embraced like grown ups
stepping into the night,
Alia skipping, not sure
if she was coming
or going
in her down coat and bare feet,
up and down the steps
between us,
and after all we do so long
to sleep and be refreshed
because tomorrow we will all be
more beautiful than today.
A child must learn to see in time.
Behind my eyes I can still very nearly see you as you were
then,
and then, each light and shadowed moment,
going back to the day you were a bit of light,
all those moments coming along with you,
and so each day you must awaken
more beautiful in ways that
could perhaps only be glimpsed
from behind my eyes.
How all those moments could be
the same you -
you – as you are,
climbing the stairs to your bed,
you will have to ask
someone older than me.
But now I am becoming a child again
and I want this growing older never to end.
The sun will not every morning be
more beautiful
forever, and every day I will not be there
to see you
become more beautiful until
you also have your oldest day.
And so I pretend I need to get a drink of water
because behind my eyes I find
I am still filled with
the drink and the food,
the faces and the laughter,
and the children.
Tears of joy, bebito,
you will taste their salt,
if only you will now go to sleep
for a few inconsequential moments
and tomorrow will be just like this
and you will wake up refreshed
and ready to play.
There was just the right amount
of sour with the sweet
in that cake,
very nearly perfectly moist with the crumb
holding to the fork.
I like the crunch of the toasted almonds,
and olive oil, you said.
We should do this again soon,
but the children learn –
they will learn that it will never be
exactly like this again,
an no matter how old they grow,
they will never understand why
it should not be so.
Amor, sleep, your eyes must rest.
Mañana will be waiting for you in the morning.
Trust me, there will be more moments like this one,
you will see them from behind your eyes.
But there is only the tiniest slice of cake left on the
plate,
and even the last bite will not sit
on this red napkin for long.
So time to refresh your eyes and then
open them again,
and you will see that it will be
even more beautiful
as you add to tomorrow
what you will carry along
from how it was today and yesterday
and so many days, and all those days
and little one,
tomorrow you will change the color of the sky.
And I must also go back to bed,
I want to be refreshed
and see the light behind your eyes.
And maybe there will be cake, We’ll see.
You couldn’t imagine
that it might be more beautiful,
but you’ll see that’s possible too.
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