Vision Prisms for a visionary.

I miss seeing my eyes from back behind these prisms, bifocal'ed into refractive light. A right eye that likes to travel to the sky is held to line by using prisms. Only it is that gradually the prism will continue to be increased with the resulting thicker and thicker lens. Fuzzy fields of view without the frames upon my nose. I miss seeing my eyes upon my face in the reflections of each mirror passed by. I like my eyes they have always been my favorite facial feature.

The woman , thought to be my paternal grandmother met me at 9 years of age. Holding and touching my face. Finger tips for eyes she saw me. Called me the name of another due to her advancing years. I was thought to be a child deceased years before. It was memorable to see her surprise when I was another grandchild. I remember how much I must of appeared to her as that other child. She saw something in me that confounded her. I have always remembered her looking at every curve of my face every detail. Her hands trembled with age.

I have a good friend who is faced with beautiful eyes that are growing dim. Now colors replaced with fields of gray. She smiles at her future and weeps today. My eyes tear for her as I pray for her through her loss. She has wonderful eyes to see, for she too is a visionary

I have a sweet six year old son who sees too beyond his years. With eighth nerve involvement we may have to face a loss of both sight and sound as he matures his mind and heart into adolescence. Ushers Syndrome is what it is called. Yet even he can see the world and the things so great and so high as if his sight is clear vision thought even that nights sky.

I am a visionary, a see'er It is said, but then remember the text of old that kindly warns that even the prophet is not recognized in ones own home land. Far to well known in the flesh to be accepted as spirit. To judged is the man to even have their heart hear it. I step in tune to the sights that I am shown, Walking into each day, many a moment having witnessed the end, before the begining. Having eyes to know the truth and to be shown each way for every day that is before me.

I know a fine Woman a mother to many with several of her own sightless or dimmed in the physical vision. Yet her eyes are open to a wider view one of distant horizons that speak of great sorrows, triumphs and mercies. I see her courage a gleaming crown that is all but blinding in the clarity of thought. I see her beauty a radiance shown.

So great is even the deep sorrows of so many I know, how many days suffering witnessed beyond even my own. Yet to my sight ponders the visions of real sighted full spirits. Courageously facing the need to use a multitude of senses. Senses that most are dimmed in. Some absent the skill. To listen more intently , breathing in what surrounds them. They are touched with depth of feeling that measures fine details. Lavishing every morsel of atoms to taste.

Yes I am a see'er of the 'Holy Friends Keeper'. Shown those ways to involve HIM in every detail.
Clear eye for the future is so knowing He is for us. He sees the high mountain with utter detail as we scale every trial and tumble into the lowest valleys. He is there. His Eyes see more than wisdom with a mind to every stumble each pebble to trip us. Finger tips know me with His gentle touch. I am known.

Those who can see. See.
Hear, hear.
Holiness as a prism and reflective light shine.
May His faultless vision be mine.