Beauty Is
Beauty is an ethereal mother
That’s elegant touch
Showers sweet, freed water
Distilling the very strangles
Of a gripped heart.
Its kiss bathes your lungs
In a silk freshness
And softens the folds
In coiled palms.
And in life we can hide from nothing.
A mother comes
As gently as her absence
Where she drifts,
And you hang, a free arm
On the banister,
Squatting down from the shadows
Making checks on the carpet
And learning how to stand.
A latch turns
And you dissolve the floors
Into a cushioned spill
Praying that this is the norm,
Praying you remain unstirred
And that there comes no dawn.
And in life we can hide from nothing.
The search for beauty
Is one of worth.
Where you breathe in each shade
That presses hands against
Scratched window panes
And stare the nothingness
With both eyes
And open heart.
When the howl of a dog
Sounds through your mobile,
And you listen,
And you wait,
And you work with full embrace.
For another glance
At the ethereal,
Before it turns as gently
As it comes.
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