Observing

I look down upon him, watching him as he sits there. I observe his every motion, but he is seemingly unaware of me. He rises and I go with him. He moves across the room and out the door. We go into a large field, a field of wildflowers. Beyond us is a small river, rushing down to join a much larger river that joins a lake. He cannot see this, as I can. He stands and takes in the incredible scene of the meadow. I observe the large view from my vantage point. I can see much further than he. Soon he returns to the room and my observation must end. Perhaps another day. I am always here for him.