pondering

a heart could it possibly hide
what a soul lives by.  
could the eyes be the mirror of disguise.  
the studious study of a learned mind  
cresting on words and phrases it might find.  
and...  
the stroke of an artist's hand as it shadows while blending in.  
the creating of detail  
as a bride behind her veil.  
for do the eyes reciprocate which is hid  
and so the given, you say, is always spoken and said.  
listen to the swiftness of the wind  
winter and snow how in multiple layers, forming a thickness, a skin.  
the frozen of the ice  
will the clarity of the reflection suffice.  
upon the palette, the colors run, the hues saturate  
providing my eyes a point to capture and fixate.  
to seek the beauty that you've released  
has bedazzled a beast to become unleashed.  
in the brevity of a shoreline walk    
for it is the shells of perfection which we stalk.  
as the ocean recalls her foamy tears  
reestablishing our childhood fears.  
of course, the lines of that shell  
how the curves, swirl and twist, weaving me a spell.  
the pearls within alabaster  
calling dutifully to the talent of her master.  
the firmness, the roughness of his hand  
warming heat as if embers and coal returning to sand.  
again..the eyes....one can wonder,  
yet, i am sure...  
they engulf like thunder.