"So far as I am able to judge, nothing has been left undone, either by man or nature, to make India the most extraordinary country that the sun visits on his rounds. Nothing seems to have been forgotten, nothing overlooked." - - - Mark Twain
Its amorphous, its abstract, its simple and yet not It lies in the eyes of the beholder, some say ... What is Beauty? Who can define ??
In the strange delusions of my mind, I seek the answers, one step forward and two steps back I find the answers, or just call them that
And I see Beauty, In soft sounds of waterfalls, When water hits itself From just the right height Its innocent clarity, powerful and fragile
Or in the muddled light from clouds Grey and cool, before a rain Neither evening nor night or day Just clouds making their way Yet claiming a piece of time Making it their own, distinct and aloof I see Beauty, in clouds of grey
And sometimes it springs, so hard to miss I seek and find Beauty In sunlight upon lips of red Or the scent of wind caressing a waist
As a lover so often can Walk across a room in flowing grace And in a moment , the thousand thoughts of your mind She can make you forget.
When I am sad, it does go away Yet always comes back like a good friend In derivations of math, or in notes of music In the warmth of a touch, Or the wet of a kiss
What is Beauty? Who can define?? No one can tell, Yet its yours to find If you keep an eye.