That Beauty Craves It's Place

That beauty craves it's place alive with white light You walk the tightrope we live with lines of change so fast seem to want it all not ever knowing what "it" really is making judgments based on uncertainty we lean on history consoled in the repetition of mistakes seeing them engraved in stone like markers in a cemetery passed on to one another (concepts) passed on, souls, one to another (lives) a spark that fills matter precious life precious life Too sacred to destroy.