So few are the great
	And wonderful days of life,
	So few the moments
	Of splendor in which
	Beauty in its truest form
	Enters the spirit,
	All in a rush, and
	Joy fills the soul.
	To see the nearer world
	From afar, gazing hungrily
	Across a land melting
	At its edge into the blue
	Of the sea--
	Oh what joy!
	Eyes are so poor, so old
	And gray until,
	Upon discovering hidden love,
	They open and become
	The deeper azure
	Of the heavens, devoid of cloud
	And so rich, so pure
	As to seem liquid
	In their cerulean depths.
	Yet, there exists
	A higher joy.
	To perceive such infinite,
	Such awesome beauty
	Is thrilling in itself, yes,
	But it is in the
	Communication
	Of this sense to another
	Kindred soul, in this act
	Lies the ultimate
	And self-redeeming happiness
	Higher than all else.
	Beauty unshared
	Remains forever silent,
	Dormant and unalive.
	But awaken another soul
	To the fire & light of Life--!
	Then, O Reader,
	Then has one the
	True feeling of beauty,
	Life and Love.

1/17/72


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