So Beautiful, I cry...

My heart is big and my eyes see beauty in very deep ways - sometimes in the strangest of places.  I think I'm odd.  But, for whatever reason, I see some things and my heart sweats.  It surely seems strange that someone could enjoy something that inspires that response.  But I do!  One of my favorite photographs is a picture of a mother giraffe kissing the head of her baby.  I LOVE that picture so much.  There is something very comforting to me to think that animals in nature are capable of feeling love for each other.  It's beautiful for me.  Another thing that makes me weak is a wedding ring on a man's hand.  That must seem like the strangest thing a woman in my position could ever say.  But, odd or not, it's always a soft interpretation on my end.  I see it and I'm touched to see a man that loves someone so much, he wears his ring like a trophy.  The shinier, the better!  It says to me that he is a man who dearly loves another and is not ashamed to draw attention to that fact.  No matter how manly the hands may be, they represent something very soft and loving about that man.  It's beautiful to me.  Another thing that gets me at my core is those photos designed to rail profit.  That part - not so beautiful.  But, the sweetest thing - next to the aforementioned things - is when a father holds his newborn baby.  The baby sleeps peacefully in his arms, with an innate understanding that he is safe.  The big, manly hands of the baby's father suddenly become very soft and comforting.  I see it and I think of myself in the hands of God.  I sleep there and his hands cradle me and make me feel safe.  It's symbolic, I suppose!  But, more than anything - probably, again, for the symbolism - is when a father watches his baby sleep.  It's extra sweet when he does it without knowing anyone sees him.  It's so beautiful to me.  It is an appreciation for some art form that reaches me on a level I don't quite understand.  I have shed tears because, to me, it is the most beautiful, most peaceful thing in the world.  It is like some beautiful dance to see a man, wild and untamed; in theory, become so docile and content.  It is a transformation that is as perfect as a rehearsed ballet.  It's a dance of a soul that moves from a more "lost and harsh" notion to something more "settled and gentle."  Men are big and strong.  They are protectors.  Babys are so delicate, new and fragile.  It is beautiful to me.  I just love this art of life.  I love to watch the transformations; to me, a beautiful dance that tells a story.  It robs my heart of an extra beat at times.  It wrings my soul out of every drop contained within.  It's just something I will never be able to describe.  It's just something so beautiful.  It's not only acceptance, but it's content.  There is no untruth in something so pure.  There is no confusion and no misunderstanding.  This is where REAL love lurks and reveals it's true self.  It is like living in the center of a cotton ball and a crisp, breezy day.  It's a newly bloomed daisy against the thick, gentle blue backdrop of the sky.  It is my spring breeze.  Raw human emotion, on a positive level, is my favorite theater.  My favorite dance, by far, will forever be the one of true beginning of life; those moments that are too beautiful to fake.  Those moments where our soul appears to have taken over our physical existence are the nourishment I crave.  It is a love that I could never do justice with words alone.  It is my passion, my hobby, and my light.