Songs for the Dream Giver

by Lahiwe

Prose doesn't seem to do justice to the mystic beauty of Pocahontas's experience. She's a poet at heart. Listen as she tells you the story of how her story came to be. Starts chronologically from beginning to end, but may include more experiences from different points in the movie later on.

10. Eyes

Eyes. Eyes. Eyes.

Eyes upon me, all around me.

Blue, grey, green, brown—

Colors of the earth, of the ocean and stormy skies,

Forest grass and sacred earth.

So many eyes, trained on me

As I make my way toward you.

So strange, the things I see in those eyes—

Some stare balefully, like a wildcat stalking prey

Others, fretful, like a skittish deer who glances and tears off into the bush.

And eyes full of questions, like a child walking into the forest for the first time.

I cannot answer any questions.

In their presence, English morphs into a clattering of sounds,

A clacking of teeth and a gargle of air.

My tongue can only form one word:

John.

And this they understand.

Eyes. Eyes. Eyes.

Your eyes, red and weary,

Full of tears that trickle well-worn paths down your cheek of stone.

I cannot tell you how many rainfalls I have shed,

How many songs, how many prayers I have spent

I can only hold your hand

And look into your eyes.

Look into my eyes, John.

I love you.

Can't you see?

I will not let your eyes of blue slide shut,

Never to open again.