Eyesight

The ones I love are nearsighted.

They see everything that is now in the finest detail,

the outstretched arms and wrinkles of aging trees,

the individual tears of the clouds, the very structure of each snowflake.

But they too are frozen.

They are frozen in the present and they freeze it.

They tell me “live in the moment”

but all I can do is look with my farsighted eyes

to the avalanches and hurricanes that the grey clouds have been warning us of.

The massive tsunamis of pain and grief that will surely wash away every life in their paths, leaving us all as caskets; representing an existence but holding nothing but lifelessness.

They will never see it coming.

Pain will toss grenades into our grounds from a distance.

Revenge will catapult boulders onto our heads.

Anger will light a match that will set fire to our entire forest in seconds.

They are so good at ignoring the big problems and blaming “carpe diem”.

They are so good at creating false hopes by examining one teardrop and assuming its of joy,
Instead of studying the face to find the lack thereof.

I, on the other hand, am plagued with blindness.

Things I hold between my very fingertips are nonexistent.

I can see nothing valuable until it is far far away.

Perhaps that explains why I love those that are so hard to get.

I throw a rope to the opposite end of a wide trench,

where my vision begins to clarify,my thoughts begin to solidify into what I perceive to be love.

Yet when someone finally takes hold of my rope, I am so scared of losing them that I pull,

Sending them plummeting into a dark abyss of indifference.

My worst fear.

Where my farsightedness fails me.

The tsunamis have attacked me from behind, and I could not look right before me to the shadows of the dominant  wave creeping up above me.

It washes me away.

Leaves me like a casket.