Son of Mine

Through his eyes the world is perfect.
Everything is in its place,
Nothing deserves a second thought.

Through his eyes the stars sparkle in the night.
The moonlight filters in his window.
He doesn’t know of dangers.

Through his eyes the woods are an adventure.
The leaves fall off the trees around him.
He dances in the autumn breeze without a care.

Through his eyes the sun is a sign of freedom.
As butterfly silently prances on the wind.
He shuffles quietly behind it in the golden rays.

Through his eyes snow is a chance to escape.
The sleighs all come out of the shed.
He slides down hillsides unaware of the cold.

Through his eyes he is he and I am I.
Through his eyes we are the world to each other.
To them, he is simply a child and I a mother.
To me, his eyes are the world.

First, let me compliment you on a lovely idea: this is a beautiful poem and a beautiful concept. But (and you knew this was coming) even the best of ideas needs to be done right, and at the moment this poem is lacking something. I'm not entirely sure what it is, but I'm going to take it a bit at a time and see if I can figure out what's bothering me.

Through his eyes the world is perfect.
Everything is in its place,
Nothing deserves a second thought.

Hmm. I think it's the voice that is difficult here. It's too...conventional? Kind of...dull. There are no sparkles! I want to be hooked into this perfect world that "he" sees, but at the moment you're just telling me that it is perfect, as though this were an ordinary occurrence. More, there is nothing in this first stanza which draws me on to read the rest of the poem. If I were you, I'd think about revising this to provide more enticement for the reader, and perhaps better images of this "perfect world" -- "everything in its place" seems cliche and doesnt give me enough information.

Through his eyes the stars sparkle in the night.
The moonlight filters in his window.
He doesn’t know of dangers.

Dangers arent linked to moonlight. And stars sparkle to anyone. Why is it significant that they sparkle to him? The first two lines are not connected to the last in this stanza and there is nothing really special in either the sparkling stars or the moonlight filtering in a window. These occur even in an imperfect world. How do they relate to "his" seeing the world in a different way?

Through his eyes the woods are an adventure.
The leaves fall off the trees around him.
He dances in the autumn breeze without a care.

The first line of this stanza is much better, as is the last. But the second one is once again mundane. Why is this special? Show me!

Through his eyes the sun is a sign of freedom.
As butterfly silently prances on the wind.
He shuffles quietly behind it in the golden rays.

Last line isnt really necessary - think of something else. Not sure about the sun being a sign of freedom, but I guess I can run with it. Not sure whether "prances" is a good word either. Maybe something that doesnt imply horses and long legs? LOL.

Through his eyes snow is a chance to escape.
The sleighs all come out of the shed.
He slides down hillsides unaware of the cold.

I like the first line. Second is a bit awkward -- try rewriting a bit to make it smoother. Last line is good too.

Through his eyes he is he and I am I.
Through his eyes we are the world to each other.
To them, he is simply a child and I a mother.
To me, his eyes are the world.

Mmmm. Eh. I like this, but it doesnt work at the moment. "he is he and I am I" is grammatically weird. Perhaps you could rewrite it more like:

Through his eyes, we are the world to each other.
To the world, he is just a child and I a mother,
but to me, his eyes are the world.

Linking the three ideas a bit more, if you see what I mean. As it is, the last stanza is a bit confusing, although I do get what you're trying to say.

Overall, a nice poem. With a bit of work and polishing it could be excellent! Will look forward to seeing where you go with it.

Cheers,
~bubbles

Thanks for the crit! I will take it all into consideration and revise it before too long here.

Meg