The Soul of Beauty

By Ian Galey

I thought to write a poem
But not an ordinary one
One of colors like the fall
One of infants learning to crawl
A poem of hope
Of timeless thought
As lively as the spring
As precious as the dawn

But instead I found no words at all
That could paint the colors of the fall

No story that I ever could tell
Could capture an infant’s cry as well

No sky of dawn, no sunset fair
Can be so caught with writing flair

No season near, no season far
Can tell of an exploding star

Beauty unique is solely so
Other beauties it cannot show

Nor inform that astounding sight
Uniqueness thrives in its own right

Beauty cannot help one see
The other beauty in a tree

Only when the beauties contrast
Uniqueness is exposed at last

The soul of beauty then is this
Not even beauty captures bliss

For the soul of beauty is a rose
Its petals glory in no prose

But only in a poor man’s sight
Which lasts no longer than the night

Strings of beauty on the mind do pull
For beauty’s soul is beautiful

Spring 2019 Issue