Mirrors of soul.

My boy, you're looking at me,
you deeply intrude in my existence.
Your warm eyes,
so brown and so deep
two limpid lakes,
full of simplicity and peace...

You've speaking eyes,
your mother says,
and like most often
are mothers to the point....
Because they think
in a very private language,
the language of heart...

You look at me,
intruding,wthout reluctance
your glance flows slowly into mine,
and i feel something
of your unknowing all-knowing...

What you mind is not able to catch
what your mouth is not able to say
flashes trough your eyes
in one knowing glance...

A maze of feelings
and intentions touches me
intense gladness, immense calm,
blind confidence
believe in my being-a-father,
feelings of togetherness...

That proud look
with which you occupy your brother,
is typical for you,
he is your only, real friend. W

hen it's true what people say,
that eyes are mirrors of the soul,
then probably your mind is very poor,
but your soul is very rich.