HOW DID GOD MAKE EYES?

HOW DID GOD MAKE EYES?

How did God make eyes that see,
That look at you and look at me?
That watch the dark and greet the light,
And carry faces through the night?

Deep blue, deep green and deepest brown,
Eyes that lift when heads hang down.
Eyes with little threads of gold,
Still bright when all the rest grows old.

How did he teach an eye to know,
The face it cannot bear to let go?
Among a thousand passing through,
How does it find the one it knew?

I wonder if he made the clay,
Then left it sleeping through the day.
And something older than the sun,
Bent close to finish what was begun.

Perhaps the universe leaned near,
And left two little windows here.
So all the dust from distant skies,
Could see its home through human eyes.

Perhaps the blue was borrowed sea,
The green a leaf upon a tree.
The brown was earth still warm with rain,
All looking at the world again.

But who put tears behind the blue,
And taught them when to wander through?
Who knew a word could hurt so deep,
That eyes would wash themselves to sleep?

And eyes can hear, in their own way,
The things a mouth will never say.
A smile may tell you all is well,
While eyes have something else to tell.

Sometimes a stranger looks at me,
As though there is much more to see.
And for a moment, passing by,
I feel the distance of the sky.

How did God make eyes that know,
That follow love wherever we go?
I ask the stars, but no reply,
Just little lights that catch my eye.