“I know what beauty is,” from The Trace Beginning

I know what beauty is. I see the light.

I pleasure in the warmths of August, and

I know what good is from an infant’s smile.

Some things I know, I yearn for as the world,

Yet I know not how came they first about.

Things other I know well how they are made:

Created, manufactured, put in place;

With inputs, calibrations, diligence,

Infinities of tiny tests constructing

Processes from which then industry

Puts shoppers’ wants on shelves for daily price.

How make we tiny tests to mould a dawn,

To furnish beauty from not gods but us?

Words have no answer, but it is like love:

The soft caress that suits to every day;

The holding hand which helps unstable way;

The peace when need is silence, cheer when live;

The run when she wants speed, the slow still night;

The water cup in the hot path, or quick

Protection from the unexpected storm;

The years lifelong of pain and care, if they

Are the sole anywhere that love to love,

For happiness to reach, swears fealty.

This here is our pursuit and diligence.

No plan can put such good adjustments in,

Yet a loved lover learns how to go on.


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