A Beauty Unbound

Some days
We are
Other days
We are not

Though we may be in motion
So often
We remain
Perfectly still

I have watched
As beauty fades
Or perhaps
As either subject or beauty
Are redefined
Form for essence
Façade falling away

I have also watched
As from nothingness
As from the repulsive and macabre
Shines a light
Not of the kind that falls so softly on the stones and blades of grass
Rather
Black as the very earth underneath
Dark and damp with decay
But raw
And pure
Luminescent just the same
Revealing
In its own piercing way
A beauty unbound

I have waited
For the right hour
For the perfect minute to arrive
Only to find
That it has passed
Long before I was aware

These days
Nothing is as it seems
And time is not so much a slow procession
Through which we are forced to march
But rather a lens
Through which all that is bends and warps
That we might perceive and be perceived
Distant
Yet with which
We are inescapably intertwined