The Beauty

by Steve Cavin

Look about you,

Do you not see the beauty?

The first light of dawn,

And the last glimpse of twilight.


The deep, dark, blackness

Of a twig, moistened by the rain.

The rough, spotted surface.

Of the sidewalk, in an old part of town.


The top of a leaf, is a different green,

Than the color underneath.

And, can you imagine the shiny reddish brown,

Of the earthworms in the roots below?


The tears of a young child,

Glisten as they run down his cheek.

And his hair smells fresh and sweet,

As he falls asleep in your lap.


The world out my back door,

Is filled by the clicks and whistles,

Of things I only occasionally,

Have the honor of seeing directly.


My aunt's skin is dry, and wrinkled,

The white page is smooth and spotless.

The world itself is changing always,

Though not as quickly as I am.


In the sky, there are more shades of blue

Than I could ever count, or name.

From within my sadness, a voice is asking,

Do you not see the beauty?