The Definition of Beauty
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty." - Ode on a Grecian Urn
Many have sought her, to praise or to own,
Many to her have sung or scribed,
But none can define beauty.
She runs as effortlessly as the streams of water
That trip and play over the earth,
Reflecting the verdure of idyllic scenery
And adding her own whimsical touch.
She sashays with the wind to create vibrancy
And sprinkles even more color on the palette.
Try to contain her, and she overflows.
She bubbles with delight, though all around her glows
With bitter urgency.
Like dewdrops adorning a window,
A stroke of light -
weightless, unlimited, unwieldy -
Can be caught, controlled and refracted
For all around to see
In prismic multicolor.
When frozen (for all else
is black as ice)
Nothing can deter her.
Nothing can discourage her.
She shapes those around her to creatures of wisdom and strength.
She is in life.
She is in motion.
She is a portrait of peace.
The clamoring of a waterfall
And the queenly elegance of ocean waves
Reveal her in vignettes.
A creek, hidden in a forest
An oasis, soft and cool, in a desert
A cloud, towering and tall, in the sky
All embody her.
And yet she is still ephemeral,
Her form must slip away.
She can be likened to a flower
That does not toil or spin
But is bejeweled by its Creator.
She is like an elvin treasure-chest
That appears to those
Who seek her not.
She is indefinable. Yet how many have tried
To capture her with a mere image:
A meek, fair-skinned maiden,
A muscular marble goddess,
A bug-eyed Pixar model.
Beauty is none of these;
Instead she comes with a reverence
For the One who created her.