When I smile,

my sunlight-struck, amber sap eyes crinkle into crescent moons,

adding to my nickname of "goody two shoes."

When I raised my hand in class to admit I had done standards in elementary,

they gasped.

If only they knew

that these sunlight-struck, amber sap eyes were once as dark as night, and as full as the moon when werewolves cry.

If only they knew 

that there was once a time when they never crinkled, and resembled the echo of an ocean night.

If only they knew

what it took to spark a fire in cold waters, and the miracle that it is

that I can have my sunlight-struck, amber sap brown eyes.

If only they knew

how the Son gave me the sun,

and let it peek over the dark horizon, 

sprinkling glitter over the waves.

If only they knew

of the beauty when his rays of light

shone out of the clouds and onto the sticky sap on the tree-trunk,

of how a dull thing of nature suddenly lit up with orange, yellow, and gold.

If only they knew

of the power that had touched a dead landscape 

of a black ocean coming to life

of a tree trunk finding its worth

all in my sunlight-struck, amber sap brown eyes.