You.

I see you. 

I see you in the snow peppered grass. 

In the morning sun, beaming through my window. 

I see you in the tears of a young child, a boy, wailing over a scraped knee, I see you in his cries. 

I see you in the window sill plants, reaching towards the sky. 

You're in the carpet, dust and dirt. 

In the birds in flight, with wind in their feathers. 

I see you. 

I see you.