I think it's his eyes

Smiling wide

And watching

Mouth gone soft

Reverent

And his hands

Folded gently

Tucked in the other

That makes me

The frayed and trembling

Wonder at heaven

That he might show me

 

And he sits quietly

Just watching

Hands and mouth

Gentle and idling

And listens intently

Like the next word

Is salvation

And he wants it

And more, wants nothing

 

It's his eyes

Oh definitely

His eyes when

They catch me

And hold me

Like there might be

Salvation

Within me

Like heaven's crested

Just around me

And sometimes

I look at him

And I see it too.