Beauty Therein
“The best part of beauty is that which no picture can express.” Francis Bacon
If I could see a picture painted
Written in a few sparse lines
I’d know an allure most profound
Sprouting from a well-versed mind.
I’d see the beauty therein unsheathed
That mere words create and evoke
I’d feel the power and the vision
That the prose alone would stoke.
The mind’s eye awakens a fierce beauty
In what the naked eye cannot behold
Its inherent worth is greater to our souls
Than the wealth we often seek in gold.
Still
If a peeling streak of lightning
came rippling towards the crown
of some great and ancient oak tree
rooted to a grassy mound
and if with sublime majesty
that tree came toppling down
would it even let a whisper out
if no one was around?
And would the after rumbles
echo through some sleepy town
where crying little children
huddled from the hellish pounds
of a Heaven flushed with anger
and a spite that knows no bounds
that a tree which lived 300 years
could fall without a sound.
