Oh, when you were near,
Wind sweeping 'neath my footsteps,
I run with such haste
The race I make with every distraction
To be noticed,
To be loved.
Oh, but love is not a possession,
No more than an infant is.
No, it grows just like you and I,
Matures, bears fruit,
And multiplies.
I speak and think as if I could ever possess you,
Could ever earn you.
No, grace has put you here
You, an unwarranted,
Undeserved gift.
Beautiful,
Point your gaze my way
That I may study those beautiful bold lines
The creator has filled with color,
Having outlined you from the beginnig.
May your warm stare come in contact with mine,
And may I lose my self in God's wonderful design.
I wish to learn from every shape, bump, edge, and color
That God has deemed necessary to your design.
Look at me, my love.
You fill me with string orchestras and fireworks,
And make me feel so warm,
As you donate your loving attention to me,
And bless me with the slightest intention.
