Look up at me, hazel sad eyes!
Downcast and so blue,
Your appearance is always lying.
About the truth, that’s inside of you.
Seeing, what others see,
The beauty inside of you,
Gently a flower blooms within,
That beholds glory, and is simplistically, true.
Sometimes, we can’t see veracity.
But, in other’s, we regard more perfect
Comparing ourselves, to “their” humanity,
Thus’ depicting ourselves, contradict.
Our Creator, “He made in his image.”
We mirror; different choices,
Sometimes bad ones, and sometimes good,
All souls and spirits sing, with individual voices.
The vibrations are unique, in each being.
Dogs and cats alike, chant a special chorus.
And, they are loved, as much, as you and me.
So, together, we resound a joyful, opus, priestly, pure grandness.
And, you are there in the midst of resonance.
So, you’re not a contrived bassoon.
See without you, dear sweet sad face,
The choir would be out of tune.