Beauty is kind and gentle. Like a young mother half- shy of her own glory she walks among us.
Is a thing of might and dread. Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us.
Soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit. Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of shadow.
We have heard her shouting among the mountains, and with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions.
Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east.
We have her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset.
She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills.
We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.
Beauty is not a need but an ecstasy. It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth, but rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.
It si not the image you would see or the song you would hear.
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw, but rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. But you are the eternity and you are the mirror.
Nunca he escuchado decir al sol a la tierra… estás conmigo en deuda, por hacerte brillar.
©️The prophet- Kahlil Gibran.
Angel Voset. Photography by the culture concept circle and Pinterest. Editadas.