My eyes, they change like seasons. I thought I was cursed with dark brown, so dark you could barely see the pupils. But, as I age the lighter they become. The brown is an alluring facade. The closer you are, the deeper you look, the more you see. Dark brown around the edges; cold like ice, but as you move in the more inviting and warm they become. The brown around the edges is directed to by the dark brown firework that comes from the pupil. As the brown fades you can see green, the symbol of life and beauty. Like a sunflower caught in a morning's glow, orange and yellow spring from behind, full of life, love and energy. My eyes, they change like seasons.

My Mother’s eyes, as much green as they are grey. Green: the symbol of life and beauty. Light grey:  like a cloudy morning. Her eyes, speckled with the brown that remains from her childhood. She too, was cursed with dark. As she ages the lighter they become. She is young, but through her eyes you can see her wisdom. You can see her wisdom, power and strength.

My Father. His eyes; hard to understand, just like him. The only comparison; the crisp, clear waves of the ocean. Inviting at first but dangerous the more you are pulled in. If you look deep into them it is obvious something is missing. The love. The love is missing. Him: as cold as ice, but inviting like the ocean.