charlotte- a poem
She had a name like light, and she saw it everyone, and everything. She had doe eyes and sharp hearing, like she could sense what you were about to say, like she could pull the words out of you before you said them. She had this way of looking at everything around her like it was hers. She looked at the world like it was all props made especially for her observation, like someone made the world as a gift for her appreciating eyes. And when you talk to her, she fills your heart wonder, so much so that you wouldn’t believe. She looks at people like they are full of wonder and light, looks at those she loves like they were carved from stone and her fingers were blessed to touch them.
When she looked at the world, pits of tar and clouds of smoke were but tools for her to build the world of her own.
And it’s hard to imagine that something that she loves isn’t worth loving.
So is it any wonder that when she looks at you, it’s almost religiously wonderful. Is it any wonder that when she looks at you with love, you can love it too?
