In the beauties of holiness
from the womb of the morning,
thou hast the dew of thy youth. (Psalm 110)
It’s sunrise, and the verdant earth is baptized in dew.
You gaze further out: a sea of cerise, an island of emerald.
Soon, all the lucid beauty, as from a forgotten world,
or some new heaven, floods your heart.
And like beauty everywhere, it is holy.
Sliding toward seventy, and still there is ecstasy.
Aging softens ego. Memories disappear, words disappear,
possibilities slowly disappear, but so do your fixed defences,
your fears and controls, which now, leave to you
whole new oceans of beauty, of wonder.
The throat tightens and releases a tide of emotion,
and you stand at some shore, entirely empty,
and utterly grateful, open, now, to receive
the orphaned cries of the world.
So well said my friend, I have much to look forward to if it means more beauty and wonder x
Thank you, Lisa!
Beautiful – how the disappearing of words, defenses, etc., make visible the the oceans of beauty that were obscured before….
Thanks for that, Sam!