Through these Eyes

I.

“El Gordito,” they call my friend,

as though a little extra weight negates

a man’s credibility, his conviction,

morality. It irritates me so much.

There are words he never gave me

permission to speak: like how I would

have given years off my life to have

been baptized too in the waters of the

appreciation he holds for others; given

a seat around the table of his huge and

generous heart. They take everything

he gives; I have always wanted to give

back just that much more, like the way

the sun does not ask who deserves to

be kissed each morning.

 

Maybe they see a child that did not

grow up? The star that never fell

because it never fully rose when

all of its companions were pairing

off and taking their appointed places

in the sky of hand-drawn expectations?

I have only ever seen the man… and

when they ask, what could anyone

ever see in his shape, I can only respond,

why can’t you see and tell him how much

there is to love? I prefer the star that

still knows how to shine, that still

has more to learn- over the one

that has burned itself out living

a vision created for, not by, him.

 

II.

 

To him, I repeat, I only wish that one day

you can see you through these eyes

of mine, know to your bones and flesh,

the way they see you. Truly see YOU.

He gives a half apology, each time- not enough,

he says. You should ask for more. Damnit,

I want to shout, if I say you are good enough

for me, you should just believe me.

I walked a lot of wrong paths before I found

the one that led me there. I know when

there is something worth holding close

in even the loneliest night. I know what

stars could rise in the sky I painted

using colors I found through 4

decades of leaving

everyone else’s path.

 

I only ever invited my friend to walk

with me. As I watch him let others

make him into less, I pray for him:

May you stare into those pictures

we posted, those of us who know

you. May you stare, so hard, so long

so deeply, that you see and feel and

taste and breathe why we all do

love you.

My friend is so perfect just the way

his God shaped him. We are all

just ourselves until we awaken into

what we were always intended

to be. In his case, it is an angel.