Those green eyes

 Those green eyes

I see the fire every day of our lives.
I see the fire and how it sits and thrives.
Inside the tiny package, always seeing good
I see the fire in my son, the way a father should.

He wakes the day with excitement and sound.
He smiles at the daylight, and without good he frowns.
His ambition is school, and oh what a thrill,
He finally rides the bus, all over the hills.

His stories are legendary after every days end.
Those green eyes sparkle as he tells them again and again.
The stories are his verbal journal, of the life that he loves;
He tells them every night until the sleep claims his words.

Tracks and toys and “what not’s” galore,
He loves trains best and Thomas he adores.
I want him to see everything the world has to see,
Life, the love, the possibilities which can, and will be.
He sees those things; I can only see the reflection in the mirror of his eyes.

Do you see the fire? If you can’t……wait