Colin F. Jones

BEAUTY

I suppose when we look at the surface of things, beauty abounds,
But when we know the origin of gunfire then we fear the sounds.
We can be amazed by the butterfly with its radiant gauzy wings,
And by the song of the Pied Butcher bird as it whistles and sings,
But when we observe that same creature stealing babies from a nest,
Then I must wonder what beauty is; or do my thoughts to me jest.
I see beauty in the river in the flowers, trees, and sky;
I see that beauty lives in the mind, of a beautiful woman’s eye.
But by far the greatest beauty that I have ever known,
Was in the minds of certain people that saw beauty in my own.
Of course one was my Mother, and now she has passed away,
Another was a shaman I loved who also could not stay.
I still have my wife to love and though those others left me sad
I am thankful for the beauty that in my life I have had.