Through Inaya's Art,
SAM Ruh's Words

You let it open, and then it all begins,
before the heart knows what has entered within.
Before the mind can put words to the sight,
before the soul knows what to make of this light,
the image seeps slow from outside to the in,
absorbed into your world, into your deep skin.

The colours rush in, the reds, golds and greys,
the greens and the blues in an amber haze.
The shapes find their edges, some sharp, some soft,
some perfectly placed and some beautifully, lost.
The world takes shape in what you choose to see,
all that makes sense is as clear as can be.
And all that remains unwanted, fades into a blur,
dissolving slowly, the way all things were.

The eyes see the rain, each drop, clean and clear,
the colour of a sky with no name, far and near.
The wind as it moves through the leaves on the trees,
a dog with its head out the window, lost in the breeze.
Stars in the dark of a wide, open night,
and a road stretching ahead in cool, fading light.

The eye absorbs it all , and you would be amazed
at all that hides in plain sight, love hidden and dazed.
The stiffness in a neck when words refuse to come,
the borrowed smile worn thin when the heart has gone numb.
The laugh lines around a mouth, the melody deep below
oh our eyes, you magical beings. The things that you know.

All of it sinks in, deep into memory, whole,
turning to meaning and filling our soul.
It carves itself quietly deep into the mind,
and sits there forever, waiting, ready to find.

No camera captures an image particularly like this,
no lens holds the weight of the moments that we miss.
It may freeze a second on to a paper or a screen,
but these can fail, and what's left will be a forgotten dream.

But what an image builds within, that is something rare,
something that settles and makes its home forever there.
It stays long after the moment has passed,
long after it should have, it holds and it lasts.

The eye forgets nothing, that is its gift.
That very same blessing can also be a rift.
For what the eye carries, it carries without end,
a beautiful burden it refuses to bend.

And yet, with all this, with the whole world pouring in,
we look and we miss what lies just deep within.
We stare into a hollow and choose not to see,
the eye holds it all, but the heart holds the key.

Focus, and everything else disappears. Focus, and the colour, the light, slowly clears. Focus, and the structure builds strong as the fog departs. Focus, and all else surrenders with all its heart.

Isn't that how we love, isn't that how we do?
We focus our hearts and the world narrows to two.
We focus, and what we see becomes all we know,
and what we don't, is what we decide to easily let go.

Let me ask, have you always seen it all?
How does your world look? Does it rise, does it fall?
Is it quieter in there, or does it turn loud?
Does it betray what you feel, or see it clear and proud?
Does it hurt less when you choose not to see?
Does it feel like a mercy to let some things be?

They say our eyes are the windows to our soul,
maybe the soul was actually really, always in control.
Maybe it was always the one doing the seeing,
and the eye???????
It was just the door to our being.