What is beauty?
A fascinating riddle?
Or a timeless virtue?
A thing or two?
Or the whole enchilada?
Beauty –
The myriad shades of sunset
A harmony of colours
Glassy, blue – green combers
In the convulsing ocean
Chatoyant, gossamer silk
Floating in the air
Dalliance of the flitting beauties
With the innocent blossoms
Dulcet, ephemeral tones
Of the birds singing at dusk
Beauty –
An emollient mixture
Of consonance and grace
An essence unraveled
In quiet and peaceful meditation


11 thoughts on “Eunoia”

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