Beauty

If I never saw another sunset would my last be enough to last a lifetime? Did I appreciate the grandeur lighting up the Western sky? The colors that are creativity with names we don't yet know, seen from seven stories high on an ordinary Wednesday. The design we cannot recreate, splayed right outside the gate on a summer night.

What of the sounds that create a beautiful melody? The waves strung together by the conductor of the wind to bring music in the afternoon sun.

Lying on my back, the sounds of life drifting unhindered while the light of warmth teases through the leaves of the melancholy.

And what of the stranger who held the door or the child who cleaned without being asked?

And what of the kids playing unashamed with nary a care as the imaginations lead to the world of make believe?

What of the friend who calls out of the blue and the desire to pursue what could be in a different society?

And what of the love freely given with nothing expected in return?

What is this said and what could this be?

The only word could be beauty.

Beauty in the expected and the unexpected.

Beauty in the things we have yet to understand and understanding in the things we have yet to call beauty.

Beauty in the life and the laugh, in the tears and the sorrow.

Beauty in the then and the now and the soon to be.

Beauty in and around and through.

Beauty