Still Poem by Ursula Anderson

The deepest level of hell
is icy cold
like the hearts of those
who mock
the deepest love

All that glittering
gold
is on the surface
and does not go deep

And the elements
earth, air, fire, water, spirit
eat away surfaces
It's what they do

Look for depth
and keep looking deep inside

Keep looking
until the surface
erodes, disappears, dissolves
and the
pure
gold
that doesn't shine
that has weight
and depth
that is
unaffected
gives itself up to you

Only then
After the laughter
Beyond the glittering facade

is Beauty.