A Glance from Your Eyes

“If I never meet you in this life, let me feel the lack; a glance from your eyes, and my life will be yours.” –The Thin Red Line

I’ve become a cynical person. I remember when my heart wasn’t like this. But somewhere along the way I started to roll my eyes a lot more and not believe in much.

I used to wonder a lot more. I would spend hours gazing at clouds and revel in how they moved along the open sky and formed different shapes. I used to walk down the street without clutching my purse.  I was not suspicious when my doorbell rang unexpectedly.

I used to dream a lot more.  I would think about opening up a cafe with live music and making music that I love and finding a soulmate.

I also used to believe that the person who asked for change on the train really needed the money to eat and survive.  But somewhere, somehow I began to ignore that person. I came to believe that there is no way to tell what the money will be used for and it’s just better to avoid giving altogether.

Being ignored.  I’m pretty sure everyone has experienced it one time or another.  I definitely have.  He doesn’t acknowledge my presence. She avoids eye contact with me. There is nothing addressed to me.  In that moment, I cease to exist. This simple act of ignoring can go rather deep and have a significant impact on one’s psyche.  I’m not sure that I’m comfortable with ignoring anymore.


I saw you come in and stand in a peculiar way in front of me faced towards the long side of the train. Then I knew… you were going to give some speech about how you need food and shelter. You were holding a crumply brown paper bag with the top half folded over. Then instead of saying anything you started to sing a song… about rain. It was a really sweet song with endearing lyrics.  You did a good job carrying the tune.  You tapped on the brown paper bag and the few coins inside jangled with a beat. There was something about you that lit up as you sang.  You finished up your song and turned around to face me holding out that brown paper bag.  I usually turn up my music and pretend I didn’t hear you.  I wouldn’t dare make eye contact with you.  But today I was compelled to lift my head.  I politely declined to drop money into your bag but I looked into your eyes.  

I looked into your eyes.  And you looked into mine.  

And for that moment, I saw you.  I hope you saw me, too. 


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