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talking to myself

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The ordinary

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markdohle

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The beauty of a bare limb against the sky,

Its shadowlike form a thing of elegance true,

The gentle sound of wind among the trees

Whispering softy its gentle hymn of peace,

The beauty of clouds their shapes fleeting

Though their beauty intense,

The play of children laughing in delight

Their joy bringing forth smiles on those who hear them,

The gentle smile of an old man or woman,

Loving and wise giving their benediction to those around them,

Hot tea on a cold afternoon,

Or a good book and hot chocolate on a rainy day,

Cloudy days with strong winds causing leaves to dance,

Fond memories of things past,

The love of friends where one can simply be themselves,

Such are just a few of the simple joys making up life,

Ordinary though they be,

Their importance often overlooked in the trials of life.

The everydayness of things can become an oasis,

A resting place for the weary,

For beauty can refresh us in ways that nothing else can,

It is what we in the end are made for,

Love and beauty, often perhaps the same,

Beauty being the expression of love,

Allowing the heart to open, even if for a short time only,

That for instant makes us forget our burdens.

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