In you, I see
The flowers of the field
Opening to a new spring
I see
The softly blowing wind
On a warm summer day
I see
The light filtering through
Fresh autumn leaves
I see
The snow falling afresh
On newly barren eaves
I know that I hold no claim
For the beauty of the field
Nor the grace of your hand
Or these exalted features
Yet I see it as my responsibility
To not leave them unobserved
Though no bird flys for an audience
Nor any flower bloom for an applause
Such beauty has been painted to be observed
By some director
Setting forth a play
So I watch as you move gracefully through these scenes
You have found an audience by my eyes
I will watch such beauty dance across my fingertips
Calling it love, this careful movement, for I know no else
God has placed a masterpiece upon my lips
A symphony laced through my hair
And I stand, the most grateful of audiences.