Is beauty a runway model, statuesque and blonde?
Is beauty a child with charm and giggles, so cute?
Or a message burning inside the soul, resonating?
Do we even get close to the reality, the truth of it
Or is it staring in our face, and has never changed
A call from child to mother, a movement of grace
Where the answer is clear, it is in seeing the hand
A hand of a creator, an artist, one who is an expert
And we ignore the creator for the created, idolatry
Lose our path, for shiny baubles of the world?
Marcus Aurelius 'Dwell on the beauty
of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself
running with them.'
