Beauty, Love, and Loss

Beauty is not really seen in the face but the light of one’s heart
Love knows not it’s depths until one’s separated, growing apart
Arty adventures arise with the morning glory until the evening sun
Nature parade new and wondrous things that will sadly be undone

I wonder if one’s expensive makeover makes up for a selfish act
Strange how vanity eludes the poor, whose works are rather slack
The rich suffer loss as well, for great substance inflates the ego
What a paradoxical parade they make, hiding their lonely show

Upon the simplest of things may help us see our grief differently
Misguided prayer can work against one rather discomfortingly
To live in grand hearts (that we leave behind) is really not to die
Wisdom finds answers to questions, to grow, abound, and also cry