A Clouded Beauty
Your beautiful young face is not interesting,
I cannot read it, there are no maps to follow.
God writes you in the long steps of time,
a face I cannot trace leaves me lost.
I want your life contouring mine,
different maps on the same journey.
Eye and mouth crinkles
offer an unspoken wisdom,
Laugh lines and skin blemishes
are prints upon a trail of tears
we have both walked.
You hold a mirror up to the sky
and ask it to paint you,
and the sky answers with the most
beautiful clouds ever to be seen above
this near-sighted earth.
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