it seemed He'd grown a mile.
He looked a little like his Daddy,
especially when he smiled.
It wasn't in his stature,
for he hadn't reached full size.
I saw the similarity
deep within his eyes.
The sparkle of a ready wit
that only spoke a part.
A shining clearness from the depths
born of a caring heart.
I have a heavenly Father,
whose face I've never seen.
But I've had glimpses of His eyes
for He's offered them to me.
When I am looking with His eyes,
all things are somehow new.
I look beneath the surface
to see the heart of you.
His eyes, now mine, see past the smile
that hides the hurt and pain.
They look with love at prodigals
and wish them home again.
They see, through tears, rebellious hearts,
the ones He longs to save.
They look into the eyes of One
whose life He freely gave.
I don't suppose I look like Him,
this Father big and wise,
but it's my prayer that you might think
I have my Daddy's eyes.
linking to One Shot Poetry
and to Ann's Walk With Him Wednesday
Blessings,
Linda
