Is beauty no more than a pretty face,
or a shape that pleases the eyes?
What if you could completely erase,
all physical things, you despise?
Where is it, that all beauty resides;
where did it all begin?
How is it that outward beauty hides;
all the truth that lies within?
Real beauty is an energy called love;
it’s nothing less; nor more;
showering from the heavens above;
bringing oceans of love ashore.
It washes across the sands, unexpected;
saturating the very dust of our being;
from joys and peace, we’re unprotected;
and the eyes of the mind start seeing.
Beauty is found in the musical sound;
and also in the great artist’s painting;
in fact, it’s reality, all around;
for love, almost never, stops raining.
Beauty was a part of the Artist’s design;
wisdom and beauty are the same;
heavenly knowledge is beauty, divine;
and destiny bears his name.
Surface beauty was not meant to last;
its connection to the soul, it will sever;
in a short lifetime; such beauty has passed;
while the soul, itself, lasts forever.