Wrapped in the beauty of the world,

I feel a state of perfection...

God, your beauty persists

through our noticing

the things that exist,

so how shall I describe you

when in order to notice you

I must release my grip

on all temporal things?

This may be just another question

with an endless array of answers,

but I like to think

that if beauty had a mother,

an unyielding love

that made her what she was,

that bond, that nourishment,

would be you.

The person I wear

is positive,

not that it's the opposite

of negative,

but that it affirms

a clean grasp

on existence,

albeit only for now

while moved

by the breath

of creation: Love.

Eternal silence,

the song it sings

to all sweet loves

and beloveds

in time,

and

unity,

the bittersweet fragrance

it gives with its life

and the rose

of timelessness.