Beauty laughs beatifically at us
who pass by obsessed with desire
and fear for the next distraction,
unaware of each moment’s
kaleidoscope rippling, like an eye
opening, toward a new horizon
in each hesitant step we take.
I open my hand as an offering
to the life we are becoming
inside this present we are in.
Beauty lives here or nowhere:
a dust mote swirls in sunlight
spilling through an open window
into this singular Sunday morning.
(February 18, 2018)
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