Beauty and the Beast

Beauty and the Beast

Think of how the beauty of the sunset stops your work,

You’re busy with your downstairs chores, a friend above then goes berserk,

Her voice is shouting urgently, and from your task at once you jerk,

Her silhouette is craning westward, wringing wet, in amber light.

She has been incapacitated by the beauty of the sight,

Of sun-rays slipping through the hills to make our forest coastline bright.

And think about the falcons, who chose a human ledge to nest,

On a building in a city, with mirrored windows giving best,

Eye witness ever to their ways, as in their life we were a guest.

The office went to lock-down, as the occupants made their retreat,

Deciding that this creatures fate, was bigger than their window seat.

They opened it to scientists, and everyone learned from the treat.

Now think about the last time that you fell to contemplate,

I’m betting that your point of view was not a busy interstate,

My bet is that you fell to thought, as while in nature’s views you wait.

That’s because our constitution’s cradle is this world.

Because we’ve built our close surrounds, our inner wild beast has been hurled,

Into a cage of our own making, and thusly trapped, our minds unfurled.

We find that now, in order just to keep our inner beast from stress,

And to calm our noisy minds, to just survive the things that press,

We must find time to turn our eyes from humans and our numbing mess.

The feeling of great peace and calm that naturally derive,

From exposure to the natural forms, that thus far our effects survive,

Is what we have named “Beauty”, and the beast within, it will revive.

But there are those who spend their entire lives with shoes upon their feet,

And those who wouldn’t go to picnics without their comfy fold-up seat,

And those who sit and text their mates oblivious to nature’s beat,

I note it is these who seem to have the hardest time with life…

It’s these who need to oft’ regale me, with their tales of worldly strife.

It seems to me that their afflictions, can be cured without a knife…

Their inner beast is struggling, to breathe within the box they’re trapped.

They have forgotten how their world’s true nourishment is really tapped.

Refusing to see woods, just trees, by choice, imaginations capped.

But if they all spent just some time by nature’s side alone,

They would see the subtleties in shape, and shade, and form, and tone,

And glimpse the patterns that connect them, deep within their very bone.

They would come away from each such session sitting by the brook,

With clearer eyes and clearer thoughts, and maybe a whole new outlook.

And once they reengage the world, they’ll stride right in where once they shook.