What do you see, bird in the tree?
Flitting freely from limb to limb
Or you, as you look back at me
Judging appearances of skin
What do you see, dear girl of twelve?
The outside looking in won’t show
Heart-oceans where love steals my breath
In rushing, reeling over-flow
What do you see as you pass by?
Vague view-points from the street won’t tell
Of life here on the other side
...its glimpses of heaven or hell
What do you see? Our vantage-point
Renders and shapes our point of view
I wonder sometimes, would mine change
If I was standing where you do…
© Janet Martin
School buses are up and running today! I saw Victoria double-check to see if I was at my usual waiting-spot inside the kitchen window and then, as she waved to me from the bus I suddenly wondered what her memory of this looks like…mine is the outline of a girl growing a little bigger every year; someday, like everything in life this too will disappear…
Sometimes, to change our point of view, God changes our view-point.