Look how beautiful it is in between,
the held distance of static expansion,
the full-grown eggplant
and drowned white cloths.
Look how beautiful the tree limb stretched,
a long-living caress in lily form,
or plant world prime minister
or just a flowered jester.
Look how beautiful the mind whereabouts,
and the carcass of the soul,
and the royal penguin feathers,
and the ice sculpted land.
Look how beautiful it is to love
the shadowed and enlightened,
the red and the blues
the friar's murderer and its clues.
Look how beautiful is the church outside,
and the grail,
and the green olive that grows in the gardens.
Look how great the beauty witholds itself,
what a perfect container was given,
in geometry, lighting and dripped stains,
and in form of shoes.
Look how beautiful that night was,
the stars hanging without entirely falling,
and the moon was free,
and the airplane lights also shining still.
Look how beautiful empty barrels are,
looks better with guava fruit inside,
and seeds make eating guava fun,
under the shade or under the sun.
Look how great the beauty expresses,
in homeless hair and deep brown eyes,
in golden nails and silver necklaces,
and the feeling of stepping in fresh grass barefooted.
Oh how beautiful it was to write,
the thanks, the unavailable footnotes,
the wine tones and hot cider cinammons,
the dancing ghosts and howling owls,
the whispered answers of spirit traits,
those chemistry students,
all the well planned allibies,
the escaping youth,
the everlasting stories,
ancient jade jewellery,
fresh orange juice,
inactive volcanoes,
sick thundestorms,
ashes,
matter,
darkness,
light,
time,
curiosity
perspective
and truth...
and your gorgeous face.