Sometimes it’s like people are a million times more beautiful to you in your mind. It’s like you see them through a special lens – but maybe if it’s how you see them,that’s how they really are. It’s like the whole tree falling in the forest thing.
Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted
Women! Dressed to kill the woman in them.
She blushed. It is a beautiful thing when a woman blushes; at that instant her body no longer belongs to her; she doesn’t control it; she is at its mercy; oh, can there be anything more beautiful than the sight of a woman violated by her own body!
The color-patches of vision part, shift, and reform as I move through space in time. The present is the object of vision, and what I see before me at any given second is a full field of color patches scattered just so. The configuration will never be repeated. Living is moving; time is a live creek bearing changing lights. As I move, or as the world moves around me, the fullness of what I see shatters. “Last forever!
I don’t know what you dream, when you are everyone’s dream.
You are beautiful. Your beauty, just like your capacity for life, happiness, and success, is immeasurable.
Nothing is more important than that you see and love the beauty that is right in front of you, or else you will have no defense against the ugliness that will hem you in and come at you in so many ways.
Many Americans first fell in love with the poetry of the thirteenth century teacher and spiritual leader Jelalludin Rumi during the early 1990s when the unparalleled lyrical grace, philosophical brilliance, and spiritual daring of his work took modern Western readers completely by surprise. The impact of its soulful beauty and the depth of its profound humanity were so intense that they reportedly prompted numerous individuals to spontaneously compose poetry.
There is still peace left in the world,
and only those with beauty in their soul,
care enough to be it.