On Beauty

Beauty
Wondrous and poetic
She stands mighty, high above the clouds, far beyond the understanding of mankind
She will not be limited to finite ideas of who she is
She was created to transcend the meagre thoughtless attitudes of those tasked in having her
She will not be boggled down by lipsticks, and cheap tricks
Her value is worth more than the inadequacies of mirrors
Yet the burden of her meaning; to understand her, is more than humans can bare
The lesser cannot define the greater
This standard can never be met.

She stands unreachable and perfect
She was never meant to be copied – only admired
Felt
Not imposed but heard
She cannot be defined
The proof of her existence can be seen on many faces
Over the rough oceans and on planets
Plants
And full moons, children being born
She can be seen when the Maasai dance
She is there at the highest peaks and lowest valleys
With the unheard, the unseen
The terrifying and the serene.

Beauty expands herself to all things great and small
She will not be boxed
She will not be tamed
She will hurt those who try, with weariness and emptiness
She is far more than meets the eye
She is the beholder of her own truth
She makes it much, while the lesser make it little.

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