Through his mother’s eyes

She looked up and saw him looking at her.  She smiled at him.  Her eyes locked on his for a moment and she smiled through her deep brown eyes and into his.  His heart settled and his breath slowed.  Her eyes held a sense of wonder.  A simple curiosity that held no expectations.  He stood in silence as he looked her.  She smiled a slightly crooked smile and tilted her head a little almost beckoning him to speak.  She blinked slowly and looked down to her baby who was now sound asleep.  She continued singing but more quietly now.  It was almost a whisper.  He felt himself leaning in a little closer so he could hear her words as if to come closer to a warm fire on a bitterly cold night.

In another life, he’d been that baby looking up his mother’s warm and welcoming eyes.  And in her eyes, there was the universe and all its wonderful possibilities.  Everything was there in her eyes.  No boundaries and no limits.  Just pure joy and creation.  He longed for that feeling once again.  The love of making something pure.  To return to the elemental.  It was as intoxicating as any spirit and he begged for that spirit to return.  If only for one more moment.  And if it did, he would cherish it, hold it softly without the crushing weight of the dark forces that now occupied his soul.  He’d need to live a thousand lives to find that moment again and he would if he could.

But he had this one life.  And all he wanted to do was to cry out to force the cold dank air from his lungs into the depths of nothingness above him.  To release everything inside him so he could live once again.  He wanted to live again.  He wanted to once again feel the fire inside him instead of the cool and unrelenting darkness that settled within him now.  He wanted to scream to the heavens and to yearn for his spirit to break out.  The fire would be his path to salvation. Not into heaven.  But into himself.  To love himself.  To once again see himself through his mother’s eyes.

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