If I painted the beauty of your face,
I would paint you in early morning light,
Playing your guitar, dreaming something new,
Like the flowers opening in the spring;
Something like a mother's careful embrace
Wrapping the dreams of children through the night,
Until dawn breaks softly the midnight blue,
And sunlight illuminates everything;
Flowers they picked from your green, garden space,
Music filling the air for our delight,
Like a bird that found its wings and flew
In a moment of joy and blessed grace
Where even strangers can find their respite,
Feeling their hearts washed clean as morning dew.