It Isn't About Why!

Suppose you're there- you're watching him...
it's early dawn...you're up, the others aren't;
it's quiet- the hills that are dry and hot and
sweltering in a few hours, they're dew misted
right now, but it's already warming up.

The sun has just cleared the rise and
you see him. A lone figure, kneeling on
the ground, he looks tired, even from this
distance, you can tell his shoulders are
shaking, and you know, you just know
he's weeping, and you know that like on
so many other days; you'd love to ask
him"why", but you probably won't.

Then he looks your way, and the look in his eyes
nails your soul, and you know, the man
who is the only man besides your father
that you have ever loved, loves you.

It shakes you down, and your heart which
had jumped a bit at his gaze, now settles
back, and your mind knows, you can't do
a thing about how you feel- you know that
what he has been praying is what he told
you he would; he said it goes like this:
"Our father..."

Now it's several thousand years later,
you are peering over the edge of heaven
and what you'd like to tell the person
reading this is...

You see, the gaze of love never changes,
does it?


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