Some by scorn, some by sword,
Some in lust, some in fright,
Quarrel over dusty words,
Ancient wrongs, ancient rites,
Defending faith despite their doubts.
Beauty strides past, undisturbed.
Combatants fall on bloody ground;
Heroes cannot follow her.
Those who follow go astray
In mazy paths. Hear them mourn
In exile: 'I have lost the way.
Where has Beauty gone? '
You need not follow, need not strive,
But wait with unobtrusive eye:
Be ever ready to observe
Beauty, as she passes by.
2008
Beauty, you bring us truth... but who cares now? The rat race must go on. Great poem, Will.
When I read your poem, I cannot help but think that the elusiveness of beauty is that it tends to remain hidden in plain sight. I need not search for it so much as open my eyes to see it close by in unlikely places. Your poem is superbly crafted and a work of beauty in itself. Sincerely, William
I love the title. Beauty is elusive and fragile. But your eloquent pen has captured it, if only for a moment. I feel sure that it will pass your way again. A yellow flower for your last stanza. It is superb. Fondest regards, Sandra
What control. The regularity of rhythm and rhyme create a wonderful bedrock for an unconventional notion of what it takes to see true beauty. An intriguing thought indeed. So beauty, like love, cannot be captured against its will.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nicest way I've ever heard it said... nice