Pretty Things

I watched the sunrise over the desert hills this morning
And I remember the waterfalls up north
And the first time I saw a breast I wasn’t supposed to
And how the clouds clung like loose towels to the mountain top
And then they fell away.

The first time I saw a band of wild horses running free
I cried when the sun broke through the clouds
And as hair fell down her back
So I once saw a mountain move.

The giant Orca came near our boat
And we saw her children play
And sometimes I need another’s smile
And still I might just crash.

But one day then forgiven
Even I will see
The beauty so created
That resides in me.

Dear God,

Help me with the weight of heaven
It presses on my soul
I feel it when I see her eyes
And long to be made whole.

Help me with that grace’s burden
It weighs me down so low
I feel it when I see her locks
And yearn for I don’t know.

Help me with such gentle comfort
It hurts to try and dream
I feel it when I hear her speak
But I’m too worn to scream.

Help me with my own forgiveness
I cannot see the way
But when she smiles the troubles fade
And night becomes the day.

To Compare

Women never seem to appreciate
being compared to horses
Which is strange
Given how magnificent and
full of glory
horses can be.

I am sure I would appreciate
being compared to something
something magical
something I should appreciate
something I should take in
something that I don’t.

You are beautiful
like a horse
running wild
in the hills
free
and full
of the echoes
of majesty.

Beauty

You intrude
upon my thoughts
and in my dreams
and in my mind
and when I see you I feel pain
and cannot help
but remember
just how alone
I really am.

Lord above have mercy.

Christ have mercy.

God have mercy upon me.

Where is your kingdom
that I may turn my gaze?
How will I seek
what I do not understand?
Teach me oh Lord,
who made the heavens
and the earth
and I will know you.

Your beauty grows
every time I see you
and my heart skips a beat
and your voice is soothing
like water over stones.
I am vile and a beast
Be well beauty
you from afar who reach me
you who haunt me in my waking dreams
Be well.

What is beautiful?

What is beautiful?
Is it an aesthetic ideal?
Is it a certain shape or colour?
Can we tell it from another?
Do we pass it every day?
In the streets we never see?
Do we miss what lies beneath?
Do we see what shows up front?
Can we tell if we touch?
Is it something to compare?

What is beautiful?
When Eve was first upon his eye?
Did he think to ask for more?
Or different?
First of women she was there
But surely beauty isn’t this:
“better than a goat.”

But what is beautiful?
I’ve seen a baby make me cry
Just because of beauty
But some are fat and some are thin
and some are round and some so small
And some are sick and some are well
but everyone I ever saw touched me in my soul
with their beauty.

What is this beautiful?
It makes you want to cry out
and sometimes cry
it cannot be denied
and does not care for explanation
and somehow seems connected
to Truth.

But what is beautiful?
Am I tuned to see it here?
Could I sift it from the pain?
Could I even say a word,
That made it clear to see again?

It is here but I can’t speak
It is there but I can’t say
I know it when I see it near
As I pass it every day.