Form of Forms of Beauty

Can we return the petal to the flower, or leaf to the bower?
Beautiful fading, falling in the shading but Beauty is everlasting;
Though fasting may come before the feast, even the least
Of icons point to the eternal Beauty ~ bird and beast, and herd
Of cattle spurred by unheard word of formless Form of Truth
Unscathed by storm of tumultuous life so rife with pain of long
Deformity in conformity to the sad, sweet song of passing time,
Which, ever moving, has no settled Form, forever living, ever dying
In dignity, brilliantly unfolding every epiphany of every lovely
Heavenly brush-stroke against earth and sky, with the birth of each
New day, never to stay but to always give way to another expression
Of Beauty without discretion, no suppression, as the sailing on
Of witness to the Eternal Form of all Forms, the standard norm
By which all else is measured and treasured by passing humanity
Below, ever craving what’s beyond saving, but itself needs be
Redeemed, or so it seemed good to the Infinite who boldly broke
One earthen mould of the ever-same, ever-changing form of humanity,
Patterned in vanity after the formless Form of God, from whom all
Forms flow so long as the winds of eternity blow and life doth show
Itself in multifarious beauty from Beauty, struck high by contrast
Of the ugly; full-mast sailing into the one ocean depth of Oneness,
From whence All did arise, in which All will demise in silent cries.


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