Agent Detection

Often I see
Hands at work
Patterns delib'rately
Hewn to the stone

Forgetting easily
That boulders fall
Their own accord
Cracking stone
No human lord

Waters flow
In timeworn ways
Mending rock
To canyon maze

Yet my bias for sentient
Hands at play
Helps me see nature
Colorful not gray

And even when humans
Are part of the picture
But planned none of the canvas
Unwitting art fixture

I still find great joy
In tracing a story
Of how person or people
Intended such glory