Chocolate gold, that's what I would call them. Perfectly symetrical, bright in the light of the sun. You can have green eyes the color of emeralds and blue eyes the hue of the sea, but brown eyes that glow like the sun? That is something that stops the heart. People have fits over hazel varities and eyes the color of silver stars but take a moment and look at these eyes, they show the color of an old forest, the bark of a great tree. Trees can live centuries, so think what does these eyes tell you? They hold wisdom and thoughts, power and confidence. You have to stop and take a second look. Brown eyes drag you in, deep into a well of memories. Warm chocolate envelopes you and you just want to gaze into them and wonder what thoughts are playing behind those rich coffee colored eyes. Admire its beauty and fall into thier grasp, be grateful the eyes glance in your direction. If you catch them in the sun you may just see them light up chocolate gold. Smiling, I turn from the mirror. Confident, I am ready for the day.
You can see yourself in brown eyes. The old saying about gazing into the abyss, except that the void staring back is so much deeper than you could imagine, a burnt, polished copper flecked in gold. Your reflection, glimmering in the light, the edges of a smile crinkled on one side and the beginning of tears on the other.
For that is the gift. Eyes of green or blue may be windows into the soul, stained glass through which the self may filter; brown is the soul itself, raw and real and human. Brown is the universe, the vast gulfs of space that let such brilliant lights shine, the solution to Olbers' paradox that lets us look up at the stars and wonder.
Brown eyes are human, and it is what makes them beautiful.
Those Brown Eyes...
Those are the brown eyes that I look into after a long day and desire comfort;
the darkess pulls me in and wraps around me like a blanket.. now I'm okay.
Those are the brown eyes that I look into for reassurance when I am doubtful or afraid;
the darkness becomes my knight, ready to protect and serve.. now I'm okay.
Those are the brown eyes that I look into when I am fragile and weak;
the darkness removes my uncertainty and becomes my fortitude.. now I'm okay.
Those are the brown eyes that I look into when I yearn for the feeling of love;
the darkness guides me to where love lives and I belong .. now I'm okay.
Those are the brown eyes that say everything to me without saying a word.
To you, they are just a pair of dark brown eyes.... but to me, that darkness is my light.
the kinds of brown
the kind of brown that's not just deep-
could be considered an opposite to the dark-
as a brown of sorts-
the kind Alanis Morisette, Celine Dion, has-
that radiant sparkly brown-
light and sweet-
like honey micorwaved and poured back into a pupil from a kitchen cup-
the things we live in the night-
those are the darkest kinds of brown eyes-
when we look; when we see-
we already know-
there is a conscious awareness-
that we are at the theatre performing opera-
with elegant moonlight-
an alive afterhour full of so much life
Those dark eyes, the ones that I feel in love with so long ago are the same now as they where then. The dark brown reminds me of a chocolate melted un the sun. I can get lost in them all day. In the night the darkness is only seen by those who look and so forth remain a secrete to most. The day light comes and those eyes get overlooked by many however they dont look into them like I do. Those eyes they shine in a way any ocean blue cant, they shimmer and shine brighter then anyothers. I can find myself in them and more often then not I have to force myslef to come out of the daze. Thise eyes are the same as hot coco mixed with all the whipped cream and marsh mellows however they still remain dark with untold storys. The myestries are waiting to be unearth and lucky me, im the one who will.
The first time I found myself staring was when she had just thrown a temper tantrum. I was angry at her because she had gone behind my back when I had given direct orders not to, and she was angry with me because she thought I underestimated her. She was right; I did underestimate her, till I saw the glint in her brown eyes. The sunlight reflected a blinding mix of caramel in that dark brown of her irises for a split second before she turned away, fuming at me.
The second time I found myself staring was when she was giving me a look from across the room. The lecture for international relations was thirty minutes in and I was so tired that I almost slipped from my chair when I caught that chocolate brown gaze eying me disapprovingly. I lazily smirked back and I saw the edges of her eyes crinkle. In the dim yellow of the lecture room, her eyes reminded me of the hot chocolate my mum used to make for early winter morning breakfast.
The third time I found myself staring was when I was laying on the floor and she was sitting next to me, concentrating on the indie singer belting out outdated tunes. She was mouthing the lyrics silently and I almost guffawed because God knows, she had the weirdest taste in music. But then she looked down and caught me staring at her. I had never seen brown twinkle like moonlight but in that moment I realized that chocolate rivers in heaven must sparkle when the sun shone on them. She raised an eyebrow skeptically and I closed my mouth, forgotten words hitched in my throat.
The fourth time I found myself staring was when she was laughing at one of our friends who had made a very lame pun. Her sense of humor sucks, she laughs at the randomest things and she loves puns, which I find a bit dumb. She slapped the table with her eyes wide open, a laugh about to emerge from her mouth when she glanced at me for a split secong. And in that second, the world stopped. I could see the brown irises warm and bright, reminding me of the damp earth after a much-awaited summer rain. Her eyes were an endless soil for the flowers of emotions to blossom, and I discovered an unearthed treasure in that gold glint against the dark brown.
The fifth time I found myself staring was when she smiled at me. It was our last day together before I went home to another city forever, and she went her own way. I have no idea till this date what world she lives in. I think she came from a land unkown where birds talk, flowers have instant healing powers and the sky changes color everyday, because I imagine that only a world that magical can hold an entity like her. Anyways, I remember her running towards me excitedly as I clutched onto my graduation cap. She didn't speak but I remember those shining brown eyes talking to me. A simple look in the earthy orbs told me that it was going to be okay, that I was going to be okay, that those brown eyes looked at me with a respect I had never experienced before. That those brown eyes - warm, lovely, homely - had held the same reverence for me throughout the years. And for the first time in years - perhaps out of the fear of departure - I unashamedly kept staring; voracious in my desire to know the enigma of that brown of her irises which rested snuggly against the white of her eyes, catching a gold sparkle whenever light struck them.
I found my home in that color of love and respect, even though that girl with brown eyes is long gone somewhere.