Petals. 04.03.2009
Consider this: beauty exists in the blooming flowers, and beauty exists in the fallen petals.
Given the choice, which do you prefer? One is abundant life ascendant; the other, the inevitable fate of all things. Each possesses its own truth. And truth, Keats tell us, is beautiful.
But why do I pose these pointless questions? There are no answers, or none worth discussion.
-- They flutter in the wind, and drift upon grass. The world, a cotton-candy swirl as far as eyes can see.
Beauty exists everywhere. And I like it.
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