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)