In My Eyes

Wading in a stream seeking minnows and tadpoles,
I come to a realization.
As they try to catch the creatures.
I do what I do in a stream like such.
I close my eyes and remember.
Rocks in the streams, colored glass on the beach.
I gather rocks. Piled high in beautiful sculpture.
The stream emerges into beautiful landscapes.
Yes, this is my gift.
To see beauty from within, and from everything around me.
The broken streams, muddy waters, flat rocks.
All emerge as created majestic palaces of our hands.
Shining smooth in the water, round like me, agate sparkles,
granite grays, earthy blues, and deep sea greens.
In my eyes, all is beauty is this space.
Once all the same.
The greatest tower is toppled with the smallest,
seemingly insignificant, pebble.