I see in your life all that which is alive.
I see you standing in a grove of things you paint:
Apples, nectarines, funny pears,
Dots of bright color filling up a canvas and a sky,
Colors that fill you and shine out
Like splotches through kaleidoscopes,
Filling the canvases and skies.
You, who are unaware of all your color and beauty
And the effect of you on the world surrounding,
Dance--across your groves, your apples, your funny pears,
Your days--with pointed feet, arms exposed,
And all the more lovely for their ceaseless motion.
You, who fill the days and make them,
Who wrap each moment in the splendors of your living,
Are unaware of all your color and beauty.