The Gift of Beauty

When eyes delight upon a work of Michelangelo—gut grinding art-- Creation by a mere man, from his enchanted hands explode results of David –perhaps a heavenly message to impart to the earthbound, scattered world flung far in lands-- mountain wrapped, plain dirt plains or seabound rocky shores. Vagabonds, they come to marvel by foot or cart. In awe they stand before the stone made man. Walking through the door, drawn to David’s splendid daunting beauty—his far gaze imparts to the viewer-- in that instant, in this life there is nothing more of beauty needed to be seen. Years pass, nights will follow days yet thoughts of this wondrous creature never waiver, never fade but haunt delightedly like a nightlight in the darkness. What manner is there to praise the artist for a gift so long lasting? Repeated thoughts played reflecting David's beauty --and played again—durable throughout the years, Clarified and Magnified in time, not diminished--when mind is disarrayed V. Anderson-Throop ©