BEAUTY

How shall we track down beauty unless she herself be our way and chaperone?

Myriads of people say," Beauty is altruistic and gentle like a mother "

Other say," Beauty is an artefact of might and dread like a tempest."

To some it's a pastel whispering in our spirit.

In winters to people, she makes an appearance along with spring leaping upon the hills.

In summer heat reapers say," She shows her face along with autumn leaves, carrying drift of snow in her hair."

All these things have we said of beauty,

Yet in veracity, we spoke not of her but of needs insatiate.

However beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.

It is not an effigy we see or song we hear.

But rather an image we see through closed eyes and hear through shut ears.

It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,

But rather a heart inflamed and a soul enchanted.

Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.

Beauty is an eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.