some sing that there is beauty in the breakdown,
but i have learned in the heat of your palms that the true beauty is in the rebuilding after the fall.
you found me a city burned to the ground and you exhaustively rebuilt all of my fallen skyscrapers.
you did not mind the singing and the stinging eyes. you never faltered at the quakes that ran up the base of my spine to the tip of the city limits.
you just moved with meticulous, tenacious, loving grace. you found me a forest cleared on a whim, an ocean polluted with the lies of the selfish, a sky darkened with the ache of a thousand breaks. you found me ugly, and still, you found me.
so, i do not sing of beauty in the falling, though i have seen the poetry in cracking ribs and bleeding knees. i do not sing of the beauty of salt-encrusted cheeks and nail-bitten lips. i stand in the heat of your embrace and sing of the sun that rises on each war-demolished countryside.
i sing of the light that washes over every blood-soaked battlefield. i sing of the way the soldiers rise and trudge on, of the way even the most lashed shoulders straighten to bear the load of life.
i sing of the water that touches their chapped lips and the cool hand that soothes their brow.
i sing of their relief. i sing, and i learn that beauty does not mean the untouched arts of virgin snow. i learn that beauty does not lie solely in the unscathed, unharmed, and unmoved. i learn that beauty is in the scars.
i learn that beauty is in gentle morning kisses when you have felt the bruising touch of those who do not truly love. beauty is not in the falling, but it is in the fallen.
so, i will not despair that i have indeed fallen and scarred my knees. i will not be ashamed of my battered and weathered heart. it has felt the sting of the blade's edge and it has felt the sear of lonely nights, but it feels them no longer. i will wake each morning and bask in the knowledge that even when i cannot see your face, i can feel your heat and the radiating warmth of your heart. i will open my eyes and i will know that beauty is in living in your dream. so take these words and take this love and hold them close. and know, i will be there soon to sing to you of us.
but i have learned in the heat of your palms that the true beauty is in the rebuilding after the fall.
you found me a city burned to the ground and you exhaustively rebuilt all of my fallen skyscrapers.
you did not mind the singing and the stinging eyes. you never faltered at the quakes that ran up the base of my spine to the tip of the city limits.
you just moved with meticulous, tenacious, loving grace. you found me a forest cleared on a whim, an ocean polluted with the lies of the selfish, a sky darkened with the ache of a thousand breaks. you found me ugly, and still, you found me.
so, i do not sing of beauty in the falling, though i have seen the poetry in cracking ribs and bleeding knees. i do not sing of the beauty of salt-encrusted cheeks and nail-bitten lips. i stand in the heat of your embrace and sing of the sun that rises on each war-demolished countryside.
i sing of the light that washes over every blood-soaked battlefield. i sing of the way the soldiers rise and trudge on, of the way even the most lashed shoulders straighten to bear the load of life.
i sing of the water that touches their chapped lips and the cool hand that soothes their brow.
i sing of their relief. i sing, and i learn that beauty does not mean the untouched arts of virgin snow. i learn that beauty does not lie solely in the unscathed, unharmed, and unmoved. i learn that beauty is in the scars.
i learn that beauty is in gentle morning kisses when you have felt the bruising touch of those who do not truly love. beauty is not in the falling, but it is in the fallen.
so, i will not despair that i have indeed fallen and scarred my knees. i will not be ashamed of my battered and weathered heart. it has felt the sting of the blade's edge and it has felt the sear of lonely nights, but it feels them no longer. i will wake each morning and bask in the knowledge that even when i cannot see your face, i can feel your heat and the radiating warmth of your heart. i will open my eyes and i will know that beauty is in living in your dream. so take these words and take this love and hold them close. and know, i will be there soon to sing to you of us.
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