With the Eyes of My Child

I walked across the yard
But I did not notice
The orchestra of crunching and crackling leaves
That played beneath my feet.

And I did not stop to admire
The patch of cloves that quietly gathered
Beside the blooming Bradford Pear

I walked without notice or regard
For the beauty that called out to me
Until she grabbed me by the leg
And held the flower to my face.

I could see amazement sparkling in her eyes
And hear joy singing in her voice.

So, I stopped and looked out
Into a world that spoke of its Maker.
Yet, I did not see with my own eyes.
Rather, I watched the world with the eyes of my child.