When My Eyes Are Opened

It will not always be
This way-
Peering through clouded glass
At muffled shapes,
Squinting, stumbling in a fog

Or
Blinded by sharp light
That cuts my eyes
Bringing blood
And tears

Or
Bound ,
Blindfolded,
With groping hands for eyes
Touching such a tiny part of
So large a whole.

When my eyes are opened
I shall see
Clear and whole
What God sees-
Flaws and imperfections dropping
Like petals giving way
To fruit
That swells
Blushing with Life,
A harvest grown
By God’s hand
In God’s good time.


…then in my flesh I shall see God,
whom I shall see on my side,
and my eyes shall behold, and not another.
Job 19:26-27