Beauty,
comes in all shapes and sizes.
It is something not seen with the eyes,
but embraced by the soul.
It is not red,
nor is it blue.
Tis not black,
or white.
Beauty,
is something that arrives on a whim.
When no one is paying attention,
or when everyone's eyes are on you.
Tis what I see when you say,
"I'm not all that special!"
And when you think,
"There are so many other's better than me."
Beauty,
is the stars on a rainy night,.
hidden behind the clouds.
Beauty,
is a mother full of anguish,
reuniting with her lost child.
Beauty,
is all I see when you look at me.
Even in ashen remains of a forest burnt,
a sprout blooms.
A victim beaten and battered,
finding joy in the little things.
That is beauty.
When you look into the mirror and sob,
I smile.
Not at your sorrow, darling.
But at the holy beauty I bear witness to.
Tis not the outside I see.
I don't see the stretch marks,
the blemishes,
or the scars.
My soul sees yours,
and it is truly beautiful.
Beauty,
is your soul.
Beauty,
is you.
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I wrote this on a whim, because there are just some who cannot see the beauty inside of them. I hope this at least touched someone in the way that it touched me.
