Why is it that beauty doth cry;
for tears cannot erase sorrow;
and life too soon passes us by;
as the future becomes tomorrow.
But the morrow brings life anew;
new beginnings birth new love;
through such a process we grew;
and ascended to new life above.
Emotions and feelings are tools;
employed by the Master’s hands;
sculpting His precious jewels;
in ways only He understands.
How do sadness and joy intertwine;
creating the Master’s reflection?
For the soul, itself, must refine;
creating a tapestry perfection.
Why must anger penetrate the soul;
and hate cement the wound?
Only His Love, itself, can cajole;
and can never happen too soon.
So what is it life’s all about;
perfection is sought for above;
it’s not about becoming devout;
but perfecting our thought in Love.
Why is it that beauty doth cry;
all emotions, their tears convey;
and conflicts to love, they defy;
as tomorrow transcends into today.