Perhaps I haven’t 
Seen it all,
The hills aflame,
The mountains tall,

Perhaps I haven’t 
Travelled far,
Beyond the oceans
With the northern star.

Perhaps I longed
To touch the sky,
But  the treetops too
So very high.

And yet what little 
Came to me,
The little moments,
A flowering tree,

A bird in song,
A touch of light,
In the early dawn,
With the passing night.

The moon that touched
My window panes,
Remember, those hours
Of spring and rains?

Those little feet 
That filled my days,
The baby eyes,
Those winsome ways?

That love still true
In your autumn eyes,
Beyond the trees
I’ve touched the skies.