To See Invisibility

 To See Invisibility

(“The one who says he is in the Light and yet hates his brother or sister is in the darkness until now.” 1 John 2:9)

When I was a child I thought
invisibility was the greatest super
power.

I could egg friends’ houses unseen,
tickle the girl on the playground,
tackle the guy with the ball out of nowhere.
Shenanigans would abound without
having to sneak around.

But today I would rather
see
the invisible. I would see your
song long before I heard the melody.
I could see the scars on your soul
that you never show
and see the truth in them,
the truth only you know.
And I would sit with you in silence; we would
see each other’s words.

I would watch the sky
and see every ray of sunlight;
waves dancing in unnamed colors,
particles spinning under and over
every wonder. A leaf, a tree, a cloud, a mountain,
a butterfly, a bunny, would
all be
one
in the spectrum of invisibility.

I would look at the footprints of my
ancestors and see
their muscled pain, left there unsigned,
a cairn,
a guide, to bind all yesterday-tomorrow
in a single unseeable point of time.

I could see the brain waves of the hummingbird;
metallic red,
and three.
Dancing above and beyond the trees and me.
Like the Aurora Borealis their instinctive thoughts would
light up my eyes.

I would not be surprised to see
that you, so distant in time and geography,
have wished the same thing too;
to see the unseeable soul and
love it like your own.