Myself in Your Poem

I feel joy, I feel high, I feel zeal —
but I cannot find one word to express my feelings.
It may seem a quiet moment,
but surely it is full of love, and of happiness.
I am here, reading it all over again —
some words written for me.
I don’t want to hide, but I don’t know how to express it;
I am short of words to make my feeling pure.
I may write a book — or maybe not even a word;
but my eyes are looking for only one thing:
myself, in your eyes — and now, in your poem.