You are in the gentle breeze
In the mornin’ dew on grass blades
In the fresh blooms of early spring
In the melodies that Blue Jays sing.
You are on a mountain peak
In a chime from a distant shore
In each tree shade I seek
In the air from an open door.
You are in the softness of my pillow
In each teardrop it keeps score
In the shaft of light by my window
In the strands of hope I implore.
You are in the howls of the gale
In the stillness of the summer night
In the pinions of an eagle
As it gears to take flight.
You are love — all-consuming as the sun.
Ever-present where I turn my gaze upon.