Sense

I look into your clear eyes and see right into your soul
I listen to your laughter that is louder, fuller, purer than the ringing of temple bells
I touch your smooth skin, wondering at its perfection 
I taste the salt in your tears when you bury your face in my neck for comfort
I smell the sweet scent of your baby-breath as you struggle to tell me how you feel. 
I struggle to tell you how I feel. 
Do you understand the word Blessed?
One day you will. 
When you’re old enough to understand, I’ll be old enough to explain. 
Until then, I just look, listen, touch, taste, and smell. 
And suddenly, the whirling exhaustion of my jaded mind doesn’t matter. 
Suddenly, it all makes sense.