The smile.
The frown.
Sadness.
Disbelief.
Comprehension.
Fear.
Doubt.
Peace.
Just a few of the faces I’ve seen.
All coming from one set of muscles designed to demonstrate unlimited tales of emotion.
The face.
Yours is beyond beautiful.
The lines of time in all the right places, enhancing your glow, casting spells on all who care to see. The eyes, nose, cheeks, lips all perfectly placed, what a marvelous creation.
Each expression a diamond mine to explore until time is no more.
And even then, there would be no end to the joy that is your face.
Mine seems to be one dimensional compared to yours.
I lack the luster, and grace of the excitement of your eyes.
My nose just sits there whether I talk or listen.
Yours with all it’s tiny curls and twitches brings brilliance to every laugh, drama to every tear.
My lips too long have drawn taunt with frustration, anger, depression.
Yours always inviting conversation and the taste of life and love.
Why is it that women’s faces are always so beautiful, and men’s always so worn and chiseled? It doesn’t seem fair until I realize one simple truth.
Men were never intended to look into mirrors.
They were created to look into the divine and bring him glory.
And to facilitate that end, God in his infinite wisdom gave man the greatest of all gifts.
The faces of the woman he loves.