Recognizing Beauty

Yes it is spring

And in my younger years

May have meant something

About the rise

Of a young man’s search for love.

But I am not a young man

Those days are gone

And the fits of need are

Memories. I want

Them back.

My blessing now?

I recognize beauty

In ways young men cannot

My heart is younger

And I ache better.

I sense ageless knowing

In her eyes and vocal tones

Hear the old soul in the

Inhalations between words.

Wisdom evident in

Her stride; hips and feet

In conversation with the

Pure Intelligence of Earth.

All this, yet the way she

Does silence mirrors

The beauty of all things

Including me.

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