A poem inspired by the beauty in the ugliness
There is so much beauty in this world.
I speak of the old dying woman who lives alone, and when she dies no one will know what life was in her;
I speak of the cracked and creaking tree fallen of its foliage, which shelters the birds and animals in winter;
I speak of the love unreturned, which is forgiven and given its space;
I speak of the attempted great thing, that in its failure is the greatness sought after;
I speak of the good food eaten greedily, and never appreciated for the care that was lavished on it;
I speak of every quiet word of wisdom uttered, that is trampled by louder voices;
I speak of the stoic response, which is misread as insensitivity;
I speak of the stillness of contemplation, that is mistaken for inaction;
And I speak of the movement of the stars across the cosmos, which in their slow momentum seem unchanging.
There is so much ugliness in this world—
If only we might see it as beauty.