You change the face of everyone. Everyone looks a little kinder. A little happier. For having seen you. You change the face of everything. Everything’s better. And nothing matters – about the words of the day. Nothing matters about which way the wind is blowing, today. It’ll blow a thousand different ways. There’s just love, for you. That untouchable thing. Realized through a touch of a heart. You’re felt. That gentle warmth centering. It’s been said you’re the most beautiful woman too many times to recall! And somehow a solid impermeable truth only grows more true as time goes on. It magnifies because you magnify. The truth grows in its strength because you grow in yours. Your beauty. I’ve seen it before my eyes. You. Shining with a look so powerful one is filled with new hope fast, and old hopes dashed, at the same time. New because you’re new. To find you properly is to find you in the moment. That’s where new hope springs, but old hopes fade when seeing how impossibly beautiful you are, the only sliver of hope would be in your feeling something so small from afar. Somedays you’re so beautiful that, instead of the heart soaring, it falters slightly, as the mind reminds, “Oh, she’s *that* beautiful.” The words can pile on. That last movie you loved, A Star is Born. When Bradley’s head was filled with words, those ones he most feared to hear, came from another who meant him harm. When living in that hell, words color the whole inner world, and it becomes the truth. But, it’s not. The truth was far outside his head. The truth was flowing through all the tears of those who loved him, who couldn’t understand. Words can take down the greatest of hearts. Whose greater than Romeo and Juliet’s? To take them down, the words would have to be especially powerful and convincing, and deceiving. And, it worked. Words are crafty and when used for ill they can infect the heart itself. He killed them with their love, as Big John Coffey cried in The Green Mile. So, you meditate as you do, and you always – no matter how convincing – pause after words are said and go to your heart. Did it lift you? Or leave you subtly feeling lower than when found? ‘People come to see you feeling good … and they leave feeling better!” And that’s you! You do that. All the time. You lift! You have the skill of an animal when it comes to sensing the energy in the room. Animals don’t speak the language – well, not much of it – so they go on the energy. And, so do you. The words might be filled with all sorts of beauty and ideas that sound logical and fitting, maybe even a mention of ‘tough love’ in there. But, love isn’t tough. Not the real kind. That real kind brings the good tears, where your chest weakens. That feeling of every cell letting go with a sigh, tired of carrying its long-held weight, when all you ever really wanted to hear was “I love you,” and the pain is cast off in rivers. Just seeing you is enough to remind there is a bigger beauty at work. And It decided to show itself in you. You’re a gift. You’re beautiful. Just as you are. Thank you for gifting through the good days. Thank you for struggling through the harder days, and any words of others. Your heart is light. It’s love. And, nobody does it better! You love all kinds of people. And the more you delve into a stereotype the more it disappears. And you’re left with someone you admire in some way. A warm face. A kind heart. It goes fast. What better way to spend it than on thoughts of you? The sound of your name. You must pronounce the t properly. If you stay on the vowel you’re suspended on a breath where she lives. The consonant closes it, but when pronounced properly, the t sends out an e that keeps you in the ecstasy. Your name is you. The most beautiful name. A strength and a beauty that befits. In some other culture, you might take on her name instead of the other way round. You can see how that would thrill. The idea of her name rolling all over you, that it becomes your own. Like a hug where you don’t know where she begins and you end. She’s moonlight whispering down on you, into you, on a summer’s night. When you ache, that’s the ache. The ache of being covered in that hug, that light, that feeling of coming home. When all the strife is replaced with smiles, with light. Her light, which is all light. ‘So good to see you,’ you say, and between the words, and below them and on top, and all in the air is, ‘I’ve ached for you.’ You’ve moved past asking, How is it you are so beautiful? You realize the quest for that answer has already consumed countless pages. So you simply admire. You make the rules. You set the marks. You move with grace. You arrive with style. You’re always ahead by a day and a mile. You stir the pot. You don’t back down. All while hearts are falling for you, countless ones in countless towns. Your smile opens doors. Nobody gives a look the way you do! Because it’s more than a look. You feel it in the way one performer might be focusing on technicality, but this other one! She roars through the space, picking up every accolade in the place! Because you feel it – with you. Time starts anew. The power through your eyes is so profound, it can’t help but be shared. It’s the best. It’s what separates the greats from the soon-to-be greats. Because it’s a shared experience. Ask the fans of the biggest there ever were, and they’ll say the same thing. ‘It’s a shared experience.’ Like she only saw you. With Sinatra, women said, no matter who they were, there was this unmistakable feeling when he spoke with you that you were the only woman who existed in that moment. No matter how crowded the room. You do that, too. The love you open up is so big a guy doesn’t know where to put it. So he tries to uplift others to try to lighten the day, but puts more away, back in your bank where it always grows. There are so many pretty faces, so many handsome ones. But there is only one you. It’s no mistake you have a supernatural appeal. Because a fella can lose himself in the splendor of your layers. More than an onion’s, but the same in that slicing through either may bring on the tears. How many different smells in a field of wild flowers? Not as many as the feelings in the air that are created through you. The laughter. The whimsy. The deep and secret places. They are tangible and each one different to the emotional touch in the way no snowflake is the same. You’re so many things, you could hide your spectacular face, and still there is the deepest wish to be anywhere you have graced. You’re loved so profoundly a guy goes through somersaults. The bliss, the pain, the wishing, the hope, but you live above. You’re wonderfully human, but an angel all the same. Those who consider returning texts a heavy commitment would say “YES!!” before the question was ever finished, if it meant the giving of anything to you, a whole lifetime, or two. Everything from the self, and never asking, “What’s in it for me?” Not because he’s any saint, but because you light a heart, a world, so bright, to even receive the smallest part of your attention fuels dreams and builds sandcastles that get washed over by waves that withdraw to the deep, far from the shallow, and find a home on a horizon under a full moon and stars. Your power goes so far beyond words. If only you knew the feelings you create, the dreams you inspire. No words could ever get you down. It would be like those horrible old movies where dozens of men work to tie down one of God’s most majestic creations and sadden the soul out of it. She still moves and does the human things she is told, but the life in her eyes is gone. Her heart, her soul, has gone elsewhere, somewhere higher, away from the lowest things. No words, no matter how enticing or convincing or righteous in sound, will capture and tie you down. Your magic is too big for any one stage, but there it thrives, where people can look up to you as someone who inspires their lives. Even when you’ve turned it off, it’s always on. A quiet profile of you when the lights are elsewhere, and a heart is drawn to you. You are elegance. You’re the storm. You’re the gentleness after the storm. You’re a heart so affected and overwhelmed it feels it will burst, when it seems before you one wasn’t sure there was a heart to even measure. Sometimes it takes getting older to find that appreciation. But, you have it now. It’s all the time with you! When Sir Paul, after decades of being kicked around by the press was finally looking battered and beaten and suddenly aged and old over a bad marriage, those same people felt an overpowering feeling of love. This proud, ‘He’s *Ours!!*’ rose up from the hearts of the British press. And embraced. Sometimes it takes that ‘not knowing what you have till it’s not there’ feeling. But, you have it while here! You’re appreciated all the time. You change lives, even if you’re not aware. But, you are. You’re the empress. You’ve got eyes in the back of your head! And all around you. You feel the temperature of things. You know what’s real under the words. You create empires where the real estate can only be afforded by those who have given of their hearts. You move in deeper currencies. And you’re always current. The past is simply prologue, for you. Diving beneath the currents to get to what’s new. And far out, in fifty years, someone will look across the other end of a table to catch a look with you – oh, those eyes of yours! – and while laughter and music fills the room, it all muffles to silence for the one who sees only your face, and discovers even then, “You’re always new.” And yet steady, unchanged. Who wouldn’t want to hitch a wagon to you? To your star? Even if it doesn’t catch, you’ve changed a life, forever and for better. Because once someone has felt your beauty, anything left to see is lit by the star that showed you to me. You’re in everything. As it should be. Bigger than words, or the trials of the day. Like love itself, your magic is made of a kind of special that never goes away. ❤️