Another Kind of Beauty

It came upon me in my garden,
As I stood one morning
Drinking in the sweet beauty
Of the flowers and herbs
Flirting gently with the bees.
Then, in the quiet place
Of space and mind,
I saw the autumn coming
In the leaves,
As death began to curl them.

Suddenly it was everywhere,
As if my eyes had been closed,
And now were open
To see the withering,
Last year’s dead wood,
The rotting compost,
My own body’s putrefaction.
The very earth itself
Was everything that had died
And now in some way lived.

Onwards the vision went,
Broader and inclusive,
Encompassing all around me
And beyond.
Here — there — and everywhere,
The coloured beauty
Such as flowers have
Was mingled with decay,
Corruption and with death.

And that was when the vision
Burst splendid on me,
As all the many parts
Merged into one grand theme,
Revealing to my feelings
And to my outstretched mind —
Another kind of Beauty.

Around me it spoke
And sang its hymn —
I am the Everlasting Everything,
The All Inclusive,
The Dark and Light,
War and Peace,
Birth and Death.

Yes — I am that Beauty!

Copyright ©2003 Tony Crisp