The Beauty Of –

I’ve been told I write a lot of sad stuff. While I admit that’s fairly true, I’d like to believe it’s because I write of things that demand to be felt. I write of pain, because there’s no escaping it and words soften blows sooner than time heals them. But today, I write of beauty, whose cries to be noticed are often drowned out by the blaring sirens and flashing lights of pain. 

I write of beauty that lingers in unvisited corner alleys and beauty hidden between leaves of trees; of beauty that is tucked away in the wrinkles of an old woman’s toothless grin and beauty that waits for your eyes to close before it creeps into your lonely heart and wanderlusting soul that constantly searches for a place to call home. 

Today, I write of that beauty, which lingers in me from the collection of things I see and feel – from the beach wind that finds a place in my hair or the sand that nestles between my toes to the laughter that resides in my cheeks. But there’s so much to talk about in one single post that is just long enough for you to have the patience to read, so today, I’ll restrict myself to just one. 

An evening flight – my favourite kind – and I had the window seat (but the plane was so empty I could’ve sat there even if I didn’t). We took off into the night sky, leaving painted sunsets as our good-byes and in that moment, hovering in the middle of pretty much nowhere and surrounded simply by space (and the aircraft), I was free. I was one with the clouds I dreamed to sleep on, or eat, with the clouds that formed pictures of dreams I hoped to reach. And as I looked down to where I had been, I couldn’t find the place or the faces I’d seen. 

Instead I saw darkness, bespeckled by lights – from buildings or cars, or ships, who’s to know? Somewhere in that light show is where I belonged, where I’d come from and where I’d go. But from where I sat, in the middle of pretty much nowhere, surrounded by space, all that mattered were the lights that shone from under the darkness and that somewhere, anywhere, I would find a place I could call home, even if it was right there where I sat, looking at the oblivious world go by. Suddenly, the distant planets and burning balls of gas I stared at from my balcony, didn’t seem so far away, because from the night sky as city lights burn, the earth looks like it’s full of stars, and to me that’s beauty. 

So, if you see a twinkle in my eyes the next time you see me, know that it’s just another form of beauty that lingers on in me.