Everyone in my family has blue eyes. My dad's eyes are like the depths of the ocean, dark and deep. And me, my eyes are deceiving. They are never the same shade of blue. My brother's eyes are like a tide pool, shallow and soft. You can see the innocence emmure throughout him. My sister, who is the youngest, eyes are the color of the royal family. She likes to believe she rules over us all.

But my mother’s eyes, my mother’s eyes, like little stars in the midnight sky. Comforting to look into when she is holding you, holding you and you feel relaxed. Mothers eyes are sapphires, so rare and real. The sense of true power flows throughout the rare gem which we call her eyes. Mother’s eyes are the smell of her moving over in her bed to let you lay with her, and you fall asleep to the owls whoing and the crickets chirping. The owls, the crickets and mothers rare gems.