Beauty.

I pondered on what the word meant to me,
If I could give a meaning to it,  if I could define it in clear terms,
Then I put pen to paper and began to scribble away,

“Beauty is many things to me,
It’s the first word that came to mind after witnessing the birth of a baby,
It’s my thought when the first rain of the year falls to the ground,
I see it in the radiance of the evening moon, 
In the swiftness of the harmattan morning breeze,
In the cracks of an aging building.

I see beauty in the complexity of the human body,
How millions of cells combine and function as a whole.
I see it also in the way Writers give life to empty words,
How the eyes close in sleep and the body stiffens in death,
I see it in the way the universe connects two imperfect people,
to become perfect for each other.

The love of God is beauty in a thousand shades,
That he chose and keeps choosing the ones he loves,
‘Beauty’ is all I see,
When incense rises on the altar during consecration,
Signifying the ascending of prayers to heaven,
After I concluded that it could only be seen,
I heard it in the harmonious chant of the ‘O Salutaris’ during benediction.
I looked up to the cross on Good Friday and
everything suddenly made sense,
How it had to be, just for my sake.”

Five minutes later and three paragraphs later,
I realised that it may never end,
I might never run out of things to write.
I am now of the conviction that beauty lies in the on looker’s perception,
It is what a person deems to be,
What we choose to see.