It is the inner flame within, a rapport between me and my surroundings, a mellifluous word or whisper that regales my ears, a tactile thrill, a scent that lingers in my nostrils, the taste of success after so many disappointments, an equilibrium of wills.
We surprise ourselves discovering how much beauty is out there just waiting for us to notice and deem beautiful.
Mileva worked with Albert on the papers that comprised his “miracle year” of groundbreaking theories.
Though you can’t pinpoint what exactly is coming, something within you knows, just knows, it is good. Surely beauty has a hand in that.
Beauty is that sense of discovery when young deer stare at us without fear as we walk towards them, or start noticing the spiraling movement of the wind in the cattails surrounding the pond or the elliptical pirouettes of our squirrels and chipmunks.
One desires the beautiful because one develops a taste for beauty, and all the senses to perceive it become finer and finer, to enjoy the pleasures of beauty for its own sake.
Beauty is here in each creature’s hunger and action. And in my watching.
Beauty — that ephemeral being that so often exists beyond words, in transcendence of our ability to fully describe, that something that lies just beyond our grasp, teasing us with moments of startling truth
I am still stumbling over beauty, and I believe all the beauties of this world are simply shadows of God. In the natural world, I hear echoes of Beauty. In my poetry, I explore the echoes as well as a Tune I can’t wait to hear fully.
Beauty is both an expression of the gorgeous and the terrible, a reflection of the way in which nature works
Poetry is the essence of beauty. The way sound, form and language all come together to create a subtle music through words while offering some kind of deep meaning that changes how we view the world in some way, no matter how small.