Far, far away or perhaps very, very near, a cosmic eye stares at all.
It winks in jovial good nature, the way I do when a child talks
of Santa Claus, or asks where babies come from.
The eye looks at wars, love, abuses, kindness, atrocities, work,
people starving, others volunteering to prevent their Mother’s demise,
It watches me
absorb those things, observe them
weave my life, shape my behavior and psyche
as I struggle to create balance so I can release ,
heal, find peace,
maybe give some away.
If it could, the eye would laugh.
'Cause it understands that from my vantage point
it’s all I can see.
I can’t see all,
where not even balance is real
because there is only nothing
My human eye can’t see that far or that near.
Only the cosmic eye sees all
(Submitted to Dverse Poets where today's prompt is balance.)