Love at First Light

Our eyes reflect love When the light is just right. But there is much more To our senses than sight. Of course, they’ll say “It’s just retinal impressions, Made by photons Passing through pupils Surrounded by sphincters Called irises.” Some are brown, Some are blue, Some are green Or in between.

I like yours. Those circles decide How much light comes inside, Like optical, cervical blast doors, Dosing out enough radiation To perceive what we see.

Subatomically fast, Refracted and reflected To retinal mirrors, These particle-waves Create even more waves, Crisscrossing over Optic nerves until They become a message, Decrypted by A myelinized occipital lobe.

Somewhere else in that brain Is where Love happens: Amygdalar, limbic, and ancient. Folks in white coats say It’s oxytocin. What a funny word for love. They say other funny words too, like Saline, or suspended halide, but Love is not a thing to be dissected By medical vernacular. Neither are tears.

I wonder if tears can Make rainbows. Maybe by virtue of falling, They somehow reconcile pain With love, Like a storm falling between Our eyes and The Sun’s angled rays — Prismatic beauty Shared between two worlds. Tears surely add water (and color) To love, Inspiring limns from a messy Synaesthetic deluge.

It’s hard to believe that Rainbows are but a Ten-trillionth of all the Light in this universe. Eyes only see that Infinitesimal sliver. And we are that small; Stardust in fractal, Fibonacci forms, Learning how to be bigger Than our bodies with The light in our hearts and souls.

Eyes and hearts reflect love When the light is just right; It teaches our senses to Be more than sight.