Beauty is all

The search for beauty is a banshee,
We are possessed like rabid animals for this subtle ghost,
Mist,
Spirit,
Phantom,
This untraceable trail of lust;

Beauty captivates us with its promise and mystique,
With its ever-changing personality,
Harmonising with our instinctual need for an answer,
Our drive to procreate,
Our questions in adventure,
In our education,
The pursuit of the perfect outweighs all,
It is what makes us look on tragedy with such horror;

Our ideas of beautiful are in the wind,
They are nothing and everything – rising and falling waves,
Washed up in the surf,
Singing with the deep out there,
Somewhere;

We listen for the exquisite in the whispers of our surroundings,
We can find magnificence even in poverty, dilapidation,
The West Pier falling into the Channel,
We can grasp this thing and lose it in an instance,
It exists in the fire of our passion,
And on our faces,
Nestled into our words,
Hiding in our movements,
In the reflection the mirror gives;

Beauty is everywhere and nowhere at once,
We cannot help but look for it in our crumpled world.


- Pippa