what beauty || a poem

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

 

~♥~