My Eyes

When you look into my eyes, I want you to see the fresh leaves and grass that arrive when spring comes, that you ran around and danced in when you were a child. Trees you’ve fallen asleep under, looking deeply at the bright green leaves wave before you drift into a peaceful slumber. Think of the dankest, greenest nug you’ve ever smoked, covered with hairs, loading a blunt with it, inhaling the earthy aroma and reminiscing with your friends. Think of an ocean surrounding it, so vast and deep you wonder if it ever ends, shadowed with mysteries. Think of the earth and the humility it holds.