The saying “walls have ears” sets
us humans on a chain of ascribing human-like features to non-human entities.
Not just for the fun of deciphering the implications of the statement, but more
to express ideas in seemingly perfect ways. Walls have ears implies that they
have known very dark and deep secrets over thousands of years. And when the
truth hurts us, and we lurk behind the shadows of secrets in existence and
correlation, we sometimes wish walls could talk. Because they know. In the same
spirit, I wish I could unravel the mystery of the eyes, complex as it is. I
have seen things, I have perceived, I have understood. Most times not
inadvertent as I have control of what I choose to see and what not to. But what
about the flowers in the field, and the shoes on our feet? They've seen things,
they've perceived, and they've understood, but unlike me, cannot choose what
they see. Sometimes I wish I was flowers and shoes, sometimes I wish I was
flowers and shoes, sometimes I wish I was not. Through the eyes of flowers, I
could see their faces, I could see mothers and daughters, wives and girlfriends
smiling warmly for the gift of love the flowers just delivered. I could see the
understanding gardener make sense of an entire world just by tending to it. But
then again, through the eyes of flowers, I could see father leaving wife and
children, leaving hearts broken right behind me. I could see war break out in
the fields, and things go horribly wrong with humanity. Right then I’d wish the
flower can shut its eyes, but it can’t.
If
I could see through the eyes of shoes, I’d see happiness when you’re dancing
with that special someone, when you’re taking long walks with someone you love,
or by yourself trying to figure things out. I could see you walk the path to greatness
on a red carpet, or walk your way to redemption at the foot of the cross. I
could see life happening to you, to everyone around you. I could see when joy
hits you, and when you cannot hold the smiles, and I’ll wish I could never stop
seeing. But then again, I could see father walk away from family. I could see
humans turn against themselves. I could see someone’s slow decent from grace, I
could see him walk the path to oblivion. I could see life happening to people,
to everyone around him, and wish the shoes will shut their eyes when they give
up. But they cannot, for just as I see happiness through their eyes, I must see
sadness through them as well.
Through
the eyes of shoes and flowers, I can begin to see what life is all about,
through them I can perceive, through them I can understand. And maybe, just
maybe, I know what memories to create, and which ones to treasure… just the
ones I can bear to see through the eyes of shoes and flowers.
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