I wonder,
Am I eaily amused?
Not amused, but intrigued,
And pleased--am I?
No, I think it is a much deeper concern
That I experience,
Quite a fascination with simple beauties
That others cannot seem to see.
Flowers, for example, simply melt my heart
With their quiet radiance so luminescent,
Resplending through all the trials and tears;
I can always make time for a rose.
Small children, babies, and their innocence,
Antoher feat oft overlooked,
How they captivate me;
I cannot break my gaze,
Especially when they smile.
How can such small beings with such cluelessness
Make me smile, vacate my fears?
So peaceful they are, never even knowing,
So simple, yet aware, every second growing.
Character and integrity,
How is it that these
Draw me far more than does outward appearance?
To no end does it baffle me that so many
Really do only care about looks.
I may have an opinion, but it dissolves in three seconds
If the person is loose or unkind,
Or otherwise not grounded how they should be.
Nothing is wrong with looking well,
But it should not be one's main attribute.
I have never seen people the way they appear,
But by their actions, they reveal what's within,
And that is all that truly matters to me,
Has ever been valued by me.
Why can I see through the skin,
And why am I so thrilled
When one shows a similar thought pattern to mine,
Or better,
Or when they make a change for the better,
And it was difficult for them,
But they did it, anyway...
Why does that pull me so strongly?
"Friend," I declare,
Even when no one else can see,
And I thank God I see their
Glowing simplicity.