what beauty || a poem
i heard that light only has definition
in the face of darkness,
+ i wondered if beauty too
was only beautiful in the presence of distortion.
for i hold the dying hand of a flower kissed by frost's poison--
+ the loveliness wilts in the curse's winter,
melts like ice.
but it's not the death that makes life--
life was the first,
the lovely before mar,
+ though darkness was in the beginning,
the Spirit of God was hovering,
the God who made l i g h t;
life, beauty, light formed in the fingerprints of Almighty Beauty.
all nobility is defined by the Day
the Maker made something good,
+ all today that looks like Him or His work,
that is beautiful:
the healing in dirty, mechanic hands
a waterfall thundering like heaven
fellowship unbroken,
what true beauty!
defying any serpent's attempts
to turn good into evil,
the Almighty will crush his head,
so we praise
+ become full-time beauty seekers
in a faulty world.
even the Deaf sign beauty before their face,
+ i wonder if it's the glory of a soul created
or the unsurpassed wonder of the Beauty Maker Himself.
Yes, in the way of Your judgements,O LORD, we have waited for You;The desire of our soul is for Your name
And for the remembrance of You.
- Isaiah 26:8