Beauty lives, yea, beauty lives;
Which alone defeats despair.
But what of Beauty –
The mist in the mountains is not,
For is without the means of life.
Beauty, from duellos, wherein
Two duel and within that intercourse
Becomes the Beauty.
The red cardinal becomes red
In its duel for mates;
The monarch flashes orange
To warn predators of distaste.
These beauties emerge otherwise
Than an emerald or red sunset –
Call these instead lovely
or glorious or sublime.
Beauty becomes of life and thus
Brings the meaning to This.
Enjoy the sublime for what it is
But fathom that the only way
To emerge from meaningless
Is to embrace that, from the emptiness
of selection, comes the artifact of Beauty -
Providing the blessing of redemption.
Copyright © Chas Weeden | Year Posted 2020
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