It is not curiosity in her eyes Which I saw peeping thru It was more what I do myself When alone In nature.When a butterfly Suddenly appears When I chase a grasshopper Because, that's when it makes a song with the wingbeat, When I want to lay on the soft grass And watch the sun filter thru the crowns Of the high trees... I wanted to tell her, I didn't want to leave... That she is enough, The way she is made and I feel privileged.