Beauty

Our souls seek Beauty under rock and rill.
Beyond the stars instilled within ourselves.
They glimpse Eternity–
In every force, path and goal we find in
drib and drabs
drips and drops
dreams and drawings
of color and note and tear which shape the
lights of our Brigadoon years.
It’s always that way with Beauty
Which becomes Joy, whose mantel is 
A glorious raiment of wakefulness
We shed until we spy another
Drib of Beauty in something near, 
When we wake again to her.