His Eyes
His eyes are like two emerald pools—deep pools, bottomless pools, beautiful but deadly—the kind you want to jump into even though you know you cannot swim. You could dive for miles in those pools and never reach the bottom—you'd suffocate first. And yet, somehow, you cannot resist trying to find some kind of solid ground—some kind of evidence that these pools are just like any other. There is a bottom. There must be!
But these are no ordinary ponds. And somewhere in your heart of hearts, you know that. You know that somewhere, far beneath the surface, there are underwater caves that hold cherished gemstones. You haven't seen them yet, but you know they are there. Sometimes, on a quiet day, when the surface is a sheet of glass and the morning rays are at just the right angle, you can see them shimmer in the sunlight, flashing like a mermaid's tail for just a split second before they disappear. You could reach them if you tried. Maybe, if you just leaned out a little farther, dug your hand a little deeper—don't reach out too far or you'll fall in headfirst!
And you can't swim.
So, reluctantly, you pull back and sit there on the bank, watching your reflection and wondering why you never learned. If only you weren't so afraid. If only it wasn't so deep! But the pool is deep, and you're just a little girl. Right now you need someone to hold your hand. Right now you need the shallows. But you won't stay a child forever. Someday you'll come back. And maybe then you'll see that the pools weren't quite so deep as you thought they were…but the diamonds are just as precious as you imagined.
I love his eyes because they are the windows to his soul.