Observing you
Animated, you speak in increasing overtones, filtering even traces of any creeping monotones.
With a passion that boils like lava in volcanic fissures, you express your convictions in strong hand gestures.
I see in you a certain glow, within which your inner strength shows.
I know now that you're one to stand up and not leave.
I see in you, a solid belief.

Your head whips back, as growing laughter wracks you in vibrations sharp, every little motion originating from your hearts little shards.
I see in you, something I don't see in me, a bravery to bear the brunt of a dishonest society.
No need have you, to repress or regress every feeling or thought, so subconsciously you confess. You detest going through the motions, but know enough to be true to your emotions.
I see in you something for me, honesty.

As you speak of the people you lost and the people you just had to let go of, an incomplete smile and lying eyes tell the story that your lips just cannot. Smothered by the memories, your smile waits for the tension to release.
It twitches and ceases, seemingly against its own wishes.
I see a broken world in your eyes, but also a flame that never dies.
I see in you a veteran of storms, a resounding bell that never stops.

A temper you hold, that often flares in your eyebrows.
I steal a glimpse, even when you won't let it show. But you hold your beast down, and a more permanent smile replaces that momentary frown, as you reject the things that make you drown.
I see in you kindness and resilience.
I see in you, empathy and forbearance.

You speak of a thousand places and times and a oceanful of faces.
You speak of the worlds that you are a part of, the experiences that you're at the heart of.
Your eyes tell is wonders that are and have been. Even your songs bear the mark of the celestial, a beauty that stands on a pedestal.
I see in you, the work of God and now to the effect I see how you really are, imperfectly perfect.