Dave Bonta's "Asymmetry" is a tiny poem built around an uneven pair of eyes. The speaker says that one eye sees "the greatest wonders" while the other is asleep. It's a funny, slightly strange image: half of the speaker's vision is vivid and alive, and half is dull or shut down.
The second part offers a kind of hope. With "sure glasses," the speaker imagines that light "might be art." The word "might" matters here. Nothing is promised; it's a wish, or a small experiment. Maybe the right lenses could bring the sleeping eye into step with the awake one, and ordinary light would become something worth looking at.
The mood is quiet, curious, and a little wistful. The speaker doesn't complain about the imbalance. Instead, the poem treats it with gentle wonder, suggesting that seeing is never even or complete, and that art may come from the gap between what we notice and what we miss.