As Beauty Speaks

One of the favorite poems that I've written. This is also featured in my published collection of poems, Wandering Places, as well as my debut novel, Marti.

 As Beauty Speaks

Before there was you,
I was afraid of the hour and of the hour’s end,
Afraid of the dust, afraid of the wind,
Afraid of the trees, afraid of the ocean,
Afraid of the sky, afraid of the evening,
Afraid of the sunset and of the sun’s rising.
Then beauty revealed to me
That which it whispered to the poet
And to the poet’s lover and to the lover’s keeper.
No longer do I toil with fear.
No longer do I reject my predecessors.
T’is written, “Better to have loved and lost…”
Atlas, I know love.
Perhaps I haven’t the most profound words to describe you.
Somehow I've misplaced my genius,
But this I know:
Whenever my eyes are filled with your image, 
My heart abandons its restless state.

I remember our first encounter, how beauty spoke to me.
The heat in that café was torrid, the windows opened to chaos.
I sat at breakfast, sipping my tea, watching the fading images
When you rustled in from the busy streets and scourging sun.
Your body carried that familiar smell of outside
And a warm feeling came over me.
I was reminded of a long-forgotten childhood,
Playing in the swaying wheat field, 
Stealing melons from the neighbor’s patch.
Our eyes met and I knew.

Before there was you, there was another.
Someone whose love was a wretched thing.
Oh, how easily the heart is blinded
And the mind is fooled.
Yes, that encounter left me empty, so empty
I shut out the trees and saw only a gray sky,
I saw no beauty in the sunset, no promise in the sun’s rising.
I longed for the evening, and even more for evening’s end.
Then self-pity grew into anger and anger into fear.
I was afraid to trust and afraid to want,
Afraid to feel and afraid to not,
Afraid to live and afraid to die,
Afraid to shutdown and afraid to cry.
Afraid of the hour and of the hour’s end,
Afraid of the dust, afraid of the wind,
Afraid of the trees, afraid of the ocean,
Afraid of the sky, afraid of the evening,
Afraid of the sunset and of the sun’s rising.
Afraid of nothing and afraid of everything.


Then I saw you and beauty spoke to me.

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