"A thing of Beauty"

The Thing of Beauty

A thing of beauty, it is said to last,

A timeless vision, steadfast, unsurpassed.

In fleeting moments, we often find,

A rare reflection of the soul and mind.

It may not gleam with gold or shine,

Yet in its presence, hearts align.

A rose’s bloom in morning light,

A mountain peak that meets the sky's height,

The calm of waves that kiss the shore,

The rain’s soft patter, hearts adore.

Each breath we take in nature’s arms,

Is touched by beauty's subtle charms.

Yet beauty, too, is more than sight,

It sways and dances through the night,

It weaves its way through every word,

In whispered vows or songs unheard.

In kindness shown, in acts of grace,

In a stranger's smile, it finds its place.

The artist's hand, the poet’s pen,

They capture beauty again and again.

A canvas splashed with colors bold,

A story written, truths untold.

A melody that stirs the soul,

A symphony that makes us whole.

But beauty, fleeting, can also fade,

Like petals falling, or twilight's shade.

What once was bright, may lose its hue,

Yet in our hearts, it will renew.

For beauty’s power does not expire,

It lives within, a deep desire.

In lovers' eyes, in friends' embrace,

In laughter shared, in quiet space,

In memories forged and moments dear,

It lingers softly, always near.

The beauty of a fleeting glance,

A brief encounter, fate's own dance.

And though the world may turn to dust,

In beauty, we place our trust.

For through the years, through joy and pain,

Beauty remains a sweet refrain.

It hides in shadows, lives in light,

A thing of beauty, day or night.

A mother's touch, a father's gaze,

A child's wonder in the maze

Of life’s small miracles, unseen,

Where beauty lives in what has been.

In every heartbeat, every tear,

A thing of beauty draws us near.

Though beauty may not always show,

Its essence in the spirit flows.

Through strength and struggle, through loss and grief,

It finds its way, beyond belief.

The courage found in standing tall,

The dignity in answering the call.

A thing of beauty, pure and true,

Not bound by age, nor bound by hue.

It lies in moments full of grace,

In time’s sweet passage, it finds its place.

Not in the surface, but in the soul,

Where beauty makes the broken whole.

So let us seek it, far and wide,

In every tear, in every stride.

In nature’s hand and human heart,

In every piece of life’s own art.

For beauty, though it may disguise,

Is always found in open eyes.

A thing of beauty, though it may wane,

In every ending, there’s a gain.

For beauty never truly dies,

It lives in all, it never lies.

It lingers on, it will remain,

A thing of beauty, free from pain.

And when the world has turned to gray,

When light has faded, slipped away,

We’ll find it still, in quiet place,

In memory’s glow, in love’s embrace.

A thing of beauty, soft and clear,

Will whisper through each passing year.

A thing of beauty, in truth, is found

In hearts that love, in souls unbound.

It is the spark that lights the dark,

The timeless echo, the gentle lark.

It is the music, the silent prayer,

It is the joy that fills the air.

This poem reflects on the many dimensions of beauty, encompassing not only the external natural beauty we encounter in life but also the internal beauty that resides in human kindness, love, and strength. Beauty, as the poem suggests, is found not in perfection but in moments, in human interactions, and in the timeless qualities that uplift and inspire the soul.