Category: Poetry

Words are simultaneously a passageway to the soul within and an escape plan to things far bigger than any of us combined. Words have been known to spark revolutions of all kinds; doesn’t matter if a revolution in question is a mere ripple on the water.

splashes of crimson spill over lingonberries when fireweed blazes and paints an alpine meadow with warmth of summer sweetness

All that I really understand about the nature of beauty is that it is somehow bound up with time. When we witness something that overwhelms our senses with its beauty, we are briefly anchored in the present moment…

Beauty lies in the process of creation; it is a flux, a constant quest for self-recreation as we project our versions of memory and aesthetic emotions on canvas or paper with a brush or a pen. Our perception of beauty is subjective but becomes more meaningful once shared, and once shared, it doesn’t belong to us anymore, the way a finished poem no longer pertains to its author.

Our relationship with beauty can also lie beyond form. Form is impermanent, and though there is beauty in form, it is through form that we get to understand that which lies beyond form. To me, beauty is this essence, as well as impermanence.