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 ©
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