Eyes of an Infant

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wide and round with wonder

glistening, innocent

flecks of precious ore glinting

in the light of the tabernacle candle

young, soaking in like a bejweled

sponge

light goes in, and oh,

light remains

it is these eyes

so full of guiltless love and awe

these eyes I imagine

waiting behind the pain-closed lids

of the Cross

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