I am grateful for the eyes that see into my soul,the me I really am, the hopes and yes ma'am even dreams
and schemes, the best laid plans of mice and men and
motherhood, the tears, regrets and pettiness, the talents and
the tastes, the things I overthink and overthink, that interrupt
my sleep and peace, the me that is annoyed
at times, is put upon and stressed and sometimes also
close to being glorious. A goddess, little g, a queen.
I appreciate keen eyes that gaze into, beyond,
with steady gaze, unwaveringly loving and accepting
me for who they want study, understand, adore.
Not more, but also am I grateful for the blindness that cannot,
the glance in my direction that's devoid of any meaning
or affection, pairs of eyes that barely take the trouble
to acknowledge my existence or to register my presence
and importance on a scale of one to ten, for then I'm not distracted
from the one thing truly mattering. Such gratitude
for being seen, and loved, and understood unplanned,
by those we see and love and seek to really understand.
(c) 2019, Ellen Gillette
