Reflection in a Baby’s Eyes
When our grandson was born, and would come to visit my father (his great grandfather) as an infant, the child would gaze into my father’s eyes for what seemed to be an extended period of time.
They would both be smiling from ear to ear, as if they had a common secret that they shared…?
As my father’s life was coming to the end of his journey,… he began to have visitors from the other side of the thin veil.
Some may say that these were hallucinations but, based upon his great grandson’s facial expressions, and the reflection in his eyes, that would track the shadows, he also enjoyed the presence of a gathering of familiar guests.
It seemed that these folks may have been gathering early for my father’s heavenly welcoming home party.
We came to appreciated that in being a baby, he had just came from the realm of the other side and as such, he must have been quite familiar with all the ancestral connections that were beginning to crowd my fathers room.
Corinthians 15:40
“There are also celestial bodies, and bodies terrestrial: but the glory of the celestial is one, and the glory of the terrestrial is another.“
Possibly…as babies enter and old men exit the world, something more, something deeper in that of a more meaningful experience from life might be realized.
Corinthians 15:44
“It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body.“
In Plato’s philosophy Anamnesis, the character Meno, challenges Socrates with what has become known as the paradox of knowledge.
Socrates suggests that the soul is immortal, knowledge is actually in the soul from eternity, and the soul’s knowledge is forgotten in the shock of birth.
What one perceives to be learning then is actually the recovery of what has been forgotten. Socrates and Plato saw themselves as Midwifes aiding the birth of knowledge, that was already there in the first place.
Possibly there is a lapse in our memories that define us for good reason! In failing to recant from where it is that we have all come from, life isn’t as focused on what awaits us upon our return…
I very much enjoyed the the precious moments of wordless interactions between my father and grandson, as he was warmed by the enlightened knowledge for God’s love. I know that my grandson helped my father regain his memory and prepared him for returning home, as well as my father welcoming my grandson’s arrival to his opportunity to life.
In entertaining such possibilities, we can develop a greater appreciation for our own destiny and seek enlightenment from our new birth or we can choose to remain in a state of amnesia.
In peering into a newborn’s gaze, maybe an old man can see the captured glee of something beyond.
In peering into a newborn’s gaze, maybe an old man can see the captured glee of something beyond.
Look closely at the photo below, and see if you can see something in the steel blue gleaming reflections that emanates from their eyes.
When I look closely, I can see their beautiful souls!
Click on image below to enlarge viewing…
Reflection in a Baby’s Eyes
When baby’s eyes peer deep inside hear old man’s heartache moan, ‘Tis old man’s heart which from the start knows both aren’t far from home…
In blue of sea ‘twas once of thee refection in a mirror, of child like rhymes, in child past times, now life that’s end is near…
Image of their journey, crossing sea which they’re returning, seeing things in which they’re yearning, reflects in glimmer of their squirming.
In glimpse between the blinking new born appears as if he’s thinking, yet mind is only clinking as the gears turn eyes to winking…
In calm of thoughts and still of night old man congers sights of light, yet baby new has been there too and just came through the veil of blue…
As one comes in and one goes out their eyes connect a moment shouts, in wordless phrase, in timeless haze, they pass baton at edge of frays.
Old man wise has lived his life has born a child and taken wife. In toil of quest and path gone west, lays still at night yet seldom rest…
In days of long and summers gone the arms of clock chime rhythmic song, in ticks of tock from sound of clock a wrinkled face hears tunes that mock.
Contrasting views and friends of few new born child forms life a new, in focused field of eyes appeals one places finger upon the wheels.
One tries to slow the pace of race of second’s spans between the space, for spinning arms of timepiece charms twill seldom sound alarms.