Fingers callused like the outstretched limbs of an elder tree
Glinting rings of metal like the halos of Saturn ever-burning
So influential those hands
I admire their beauty

Eyes that have seen the world three times over
Like tidal pools, deep blue and flecked with gold
Tiredness fills your gaze
Because you’ve stayed up late writing love songs

The slightly too-long hair you push from your face
Like amber waves glimmering in sunlight
Scruff only the cameras can see
I wonder if you think it looks cool

Tattered leather jacket
As warm as the stage lights that illuminate you
Donning ripped jeans and Converse
The get-up of a rock star

You up straight with your head held high
Like Christ with the sins of man upon His back
As you brush the strings with your fingertips
And make beautiful music

A crowd of thousands screams out your name
They know your story more than you know it yourself
On the road all your life
Like a traveling salesman selling his songs to the world