Peggy Turnbull – The Pilgrimage Home

I wept when I heard Brahms’ Requiem. Beauty pierced me, tears flowed. My stomach dropped when I watched the Joffrey Ballet. The empty space was filled with awe. We think our responses to beauty are personal, individual, but they are not. The shared experience of beauty links us to other humans.

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Peggy R. Ellsberg – Four Poems

On a bright but cool summer morning, my father is casting a fly rod out over the pond, his fishline arcing across the napoleon-blue sky; Shubert’s “Trout Quintet” swims softly from an open window; in a nearby field, my beautiful horse with the golden mane stops grazing and stands at ease, his ears relaxed as he connects effortlessly with the music, and I know that he is at prayer.

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Ashley Parker Owens – Five Digital Collages

I’m a sky watcher. I’m looking for aliens, but what I get from the experience is a rabid awe and excitement of something new, visitors from another realm. While the images I present are not meant to be aliens, I hope to capture the beauty and acceptance of the unknown.

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Erin Wilson- Three Poems

I found art. I found language. I found essence in the natural world fortifying itself into form. I don’t know how I did — a lucky sequence of accidents, I guess. But when I saw beauty pushing up and into moments, I was startled alert. Alert and activated. Hungry for what feels divine.

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Darren C. Demaree – Three Poems

It strikes me that I write poetry the same way my four-year-old boy drinks grape pop. I love the taste of it, the mess of it, the attempt to control it, and once it’s done I love to talk about it all happened. I have other, bigger picture thoughts on poetry, but right now I’m enjoying the delightfulness of this idea.

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James Owens – From the French of Rilke

Beauty is mystical in the strict sense — that is, it is knowable by direct experience that inspires awe and fascination, without necessarily being susceptible to definition — and also involves the notion of limit. Only that which comes to an end is beautiful.

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Nina R. Alonso – Double Rainbows, Translation for Mortals

Part of what we do as writers and artists is generate and focus perception. At times it’s an ordinary thing that catches me, the amazing shape of a strawberry. And what about the textures of music and dance, the emotional angle of a painted glance, words that express what’s beyond words?

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Karen Greenbaum-Maya – Five Photographs

I take photos to honor the beautiful moment that no one else notices. A psychoanalyst friend thinks that beauty is proof of God’s love. His God is kinder than mine; for me, beauty is recompense for being human in the face of God’s love, which surpasses my little understanding. Beauty shows the connection between inside and outside, the possibility of human wholeness in the indifferent world, the grace of getting a cosmic joke.

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Ruth Asch – Three Poems

It is seen in the loveliness everywhere around us, heard in inspired music, felt when we witness a noble deed, when we experience ecstatic or self-forgetful love. Beauty is not different for the sake of it, though it often seems to strain at the boundaries it heals rather than breaks, but wherever it is found we feel uniqueness, a specialness (even if it is the nth sunset we have seen!) which is the mark of the personal… for me, beauty is the breath of God flowing through his creation.

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Anna Evans – Five Poems

Can poems about a famous disaster which caused a tragic loss of life truly be called beautiful? In contemplating this question, I am reminded of two very different poems. The first is an excerpt from a poem by the fictional Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings, which begins “The dead swans lay in the stagnant pool.”

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Grace Marie Grafton – Five Poems

Color. I choose color. Although I also choose the night sky with its fiery silver stars and no other colors at all. I choose flowers, especially the ones that lure my vision into their entrancing center. Poppies, columbine, the daffodil. I choose silk or moss or certain musics.

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Martin Willitts Jr – Four Poems

My grandmother once said to find the beauty within every person, every object, because they were “that of God”. This is Quaker-Mennonite-Amish-talk for the concept that God is everywhere, in all things, and we have to find the hidden kindness, or special aspect, because God is somewhere inside.

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Yvette Neisser – Three Poems

I believe that beauty in poetry comes from the combination of words, images, and emotions. Even a horrific subject like war or a mundane subject like socks (a la Pablo Neruda’s “Ode to My Socks”) can be made somehow beautiful with words. For me, in the writing process, this often involves focusing on the sounds in a poem—vowel or consonant sounds—and looking for sound echoes.

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Robert Nisbet – Four Poems

I have always, from childhood, felt a yearning for the beauty which is to be found in the human presence, in areas of our lives like neighbourhood and community, the smaller communities, the villages, the lived-in countryside, very often. Many of my poems seem to focus on those places and moments where the human world and the wider natural one meet and fuse.

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Tammy Ho Lai-Ming – Two Poems

Tammy Ho Lai-Ming – Two Poems Leftovers The Chinese understand leftovers. How food can be made over into other food. How whatever’s left in the pot can be reused, cooked into something random, humble. That women still unmarried in their early thirties or beyond are called sheng nu— literally the ‘left-over ladies’. And why 61 million children have been left over, left behind in villages by parents seeking work in cities, living in cramped spaces, eating leftovers. Distraction When a pigeon in flight crashes into a passing train, its feathers disperse like messy confetti, and seconds later, its mangled...

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Louis Faber – Three Poems

I’ve come to realize that beauty arises from, and is the essence of existence. We cannot exist (long) without it, nor can we define it. It is like Buddha nature, it is there, independent of us – it does not require us, we require it. Children innately understand beauty, as we age we begin to seek it. We would be better served remembering the advice of Shunryu Suzuki Roshi: “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.” Our job is merely to allow beauty in all of its shapes and forms.

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Thriveni C Mysore – Two Poems

Beauty is the self. One can feel it, realize its all pervading existence only when one tries to see for oneself; within oneself. A spectrum can be seen in a glass prism, crystal, diamond or even a water droplet – only when white light shines on it. That essential white light is beauty – like the self within.

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Sarah Marxer – Rocky Shoreline

I’ve been collecting moments of beauty, each one a loop interlocking with the next, like the construction-paper chains I made in childhood and again with my daughter. The most durable kinds of beauty, for me, arc from light to dark and back again. When a late-afternoon sun paints bone-colored tree trunks against a dark gray sky.

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