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.