longer.blue

~ An empath can see Into your highweyes leading To your home ~ This haiku invites the reader into an intimate act of perception — one that moves inward rather than outward. The poem positions empathy not merely as emotional sensitivity, but as a form of vision, a capacity to travel through another person toward something they themselves may have forgotten or abandoned. The opening line, "𝘈𝘯 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦," establishes quiet authority. There is no qualification, no uncertainty. The empath 𝘤𝘢𝘯 see — full stop. This declarative confidence sets up what follows as inevitable: sight will lead somewhere. The invented word 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 is the poem's most striking gesture. Fusing 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢𝘺 and 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, it collapses two seemingly unrelated images into a single, layered portal. Eyes become roads. Roads become eyes. The suggestion is that what we reveal through our gaze is not static — it is a 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦, something with direction and momentum. To look into someone's eyes, the poem implies, is to find an entrance ramp to their interior world, a throughway that carries you deeper than surface expression ever could. The destination of that journey is 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 — and here the poem earns its quiet emotional weight. Home, in this context, is not a physical address but a psychological origin point: the self that existed before experience shaped, hardened, or obscured it. It is the self before performance, before protection, before becoming. The empath does not simply read emotion; they navigate all the way back to where a person 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯. What makes this haiku linger is its tenderness. There is no intrusion in the empath's seeing — only arrival. The brevity of the form mirrors the experience itself: understanding, when it is genuine, simply finds its way home. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To support me, visit: https://tinyurl.com/andy-rukes ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~